Mutant Slayer
by APhantasm
Summary: On Buffy Summers 16th birthday she is called as a Slayer. Before Merrick can find her she is found by, Charles Xavier. He and Buffy's cousin Scott bring her to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters where they begin training her to control her powers, both mutant and Slayer.
1. Prologue

**Summary: **On Buffy Summers 16th birthday she is called as a Slayer. Before Merrick can find her she is found by, Charles Xavier. He and Buffy's cousin Scott bring her to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters where they begin training her to control her powers, both mutant and Slayer.

**A/U:** Pre-Season 1 of BTVS.

**Pairing: **Buffy/Rogue

**Disclaimer: **Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. 20th Century Fox owns the rights to the X-Men movies. Marvel Comics owns the rights to the X-Men comics.

**Author's Note:** The first thirty or so chapters take place in the original X-Men trilogy, even the hated X3. Then I will take the story into BTVS to see what changes Buffy would make there. And then finally I will conclude the story with Day's of Future's Past. I like the movie but I'm not sure how to get Buffy that far into the past. So I may do the comic version that the movie was based on instead. If anyone has an idea of how to add Buffy into the movie version of DoFP I'm all ears.

* * *

**Prologue**

**_Los Angeles, California—July 1989_**

Scott Summers stood with his cousin, Buffy, as she entertained his friends. He had been asked by his aunt and uncle to watch her that evening so they could go out. So he had brought her along to his friend's party.

It was getting late and he had promised his aunt and uncle to have Buffy home by eight o'clock that evening. They were walking down the hall of the Elks lodge, where the party was being held, towards the front door as suddenly, a jabbing pain shot through the back of Scott's head and into his eyes. "Ahhhh," Scott screamed, bending over, covering his eyes as they started to water.

"You all right, Scotty?" Buffy asked concerned. The pain of losing her cousin Celia, Scott's sister, just two months earlier was still fresh in her mind. She didn't want to lose Scott too, so that made her worry when he had screamed out in pain.

Scott managed to nod. The pain was intense. So intense that his eyes felt as if they were trying to explode out of his head. He bumped against a wall. The agony seemed to echo around inside his head.

"Are you sure, Scotty?" Buffy asked again.

Scott didn't look towards his cousin. "My eyes ... my eyes are killing me," he told her.

"Let me see, Scotty," said Buffy as she tried to look at Scott's eyes.

"My ... eyes ..." Scott groaned in pain. Buffy could see that his eyes were watering so badly that tears were literally streaming through his fingers. "... they're burning ..."

Suddenly Scott could feel the pain come together at a point above the bridge of his nose. And then it vanished, as if it hadn't been there at all. Instead there was energy, flowing in his head. Energy he could feel like water running through his fingers.

"Scott should I get someone?" asked Buffy as her worry for Scott worsened as he looked up, taking, taking his hands away, and revealing to her for an instant that his eyes were merely bright red embers in his head. Featureless but for the color. "I'm getting help Scotty, stay here. I'm getting help, hold on." She turned to run, when suddenly behind her there was a massive blast of energy that smashed into the wall causing the wall to explode.

Buffy turned back to look at the massive hole. "I'm getting help Scotty," she said and turned and ran heading back to the party looking for help for her cousin.

**_May 1996_**

_"__I want to spend time in New York City," Marie said, smiling at David who was sitting on the edge of her bed. _

_"__You going to live there?" David asked._

_"__No," Marie said. "Niagara Falls, then into Canada. Toronto, west to Calgary, then on to Anchorage."_

_"__Wow," David said, clearly impressed. "Won't it be kinda cold?"_

_"__Of course it will," Marie said, laughing. "Otherwise it wouldn't be an adventure."_

_"__When are you gonna do this?" David asked._

_Marie shrugged. "I don't know. After school, but before college," she said as he reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "So, what do you want to do now?"_

_"__I don't know," he said as he moved closer. "What do you want to do?"_

_"__I don't know," she managed._

_He turned her slightly so they were facing each other, then slowly he moved forward until he was kissing her. _

_It was as if a surge of electricity shot through every nerve cell in her body._

_David's eyes snapped open. His hands locked around her in a terrifying grip._

_She tried to pull away, but it felt as if he were pouring his every thought, his every wish, his every dream into her head._

_Energy crackled around them, until finally she managed to pull away._

_He dropped to the floor, his eyes open wide._

_The next thing she knew she was screaming. _

**_January 1997_**

At the home of Joyce, Hank, and their daughter Buffy Summers … Buffy woke up with a start and looked around her room disoriented from the dream she had just had. "What a weird dream," she said.

Across the country at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Charles Xavier exited Cerebro heading for the elevator. He had just located a mutant just now coming into her powers. He was slightly concerned as how he would tell Scott that is now 15 year old cousin was a mutant.

~Scott I need to see you in my office.~ Xavier telepathically projected towards the man he considered like a son.

Ten minutes later Xavier was in his office waiting for Scott as the man entered the office and sat down across from Xavier. "You wanted to see me Professor?" Scott asked, of course he knew that Professor Xavier had wanted to see him. But it was still polite to ask the telepath anyways.

"What I have to tell you is…" Xavier started. "Difficult."

"What is it Professor?" asked Scott with a look of concern.

Xavier let out a sigh. "How much contact do you have with your cousin, Buffy?" he asked.

Scott smiled at the mention of his cousin. "We've been writing back and force since I came here," he said. "I've gone to see her a few times over the last 7 years."

"Does she know you're…" Xavier started to ask already knowing the answer.

Scott let out a sigh. "She knows I'm a mutant," he said, "she was with me when my power first manifested. What is this about Professor?"

"I was just in Cerebro, Scott. I detected a mutant in California just now coming into her powers. Scott it's your cousin, Buffy." Scott's jaw dropped at the revelation that Buffy was a mutant. He was unsure what to say. "With your consent I would like to offer her a scholarship to come here. It might help her parents if you went with me to talk to her."

Scott nodded. "Of course, Professor. I would be more than happy to see her with you," he said. He wondered how his aunt and uncle would take the discussion that their only daughter was a mutant.

**_3 Days Later – Los Angeles, California_**

Scott drove the rental car up to the front of the Summers' home in Los Angeles. He got Xavier's wheelchair out of the back and helped the Professor in to it as he looked nervously at the house. He walked beside the Professor towards the front door wondering what he would say to Buffy, Joyce and Hank.

Xavier looked towards Scott. "It will be alright Scott," he said trying to comfort the man next to him.

"I know Professor. But I still can't help being a little nervous and anxious. This is not something I would have ever wanted for Buffy," Scott said,

Just then the front door opened and Buffy came running out and barreled into Scott as she flung her arms around him in a massive bear hug. "Scotty this is a wonderful surprise," she said, smiling.

Scott winced at the strength of the embrace as he glanced toward Xavier for a moment. "Buffy can't breathe," he said as he wondered what Buffy's mutation was. It was something that he had forgotten to ask the Professor.

Buffy smiled meekly. "Sorry," she said as she let Scott go. "Guess all those cheerleading practices really improved my strength." She looked from Scott to Xavier and then back to Scott with curiosity. "Who's your friend Scotty?"

Xavier extended his hand and Buffy shook it. "Charles Xavier," he said.

Buffy's eyes went wide with realization. She knew who Charles Xavier was from Scott's letters over the last seven years. "You run the school that Scotty went to after …" she said.

"Yes," Xavier said with a nod, "after his mutation first revealed itself. But I'm here to talk to you and your parents. Scott has talked me into graciously offering you a full scholarship to attend my school."

Buffy looked at Scott and smiled. "You did?" she asked. She was thrilled at the prospect of going to the same school her cousin had gone to.

Scott looked at Xavier remembering their conversation on the way there. They had agreed it might go over better if Scott had been the one to get Buffy accepted. "Yeah Squirt," he said. "Why don't you run inside and tell Aunt Joyce and Uncle Hank we're here."

Buffy nodded and ran back into the house.

Scott projected towards the Professor, knowing that the telepath could hear his thoughts. ~Professor, what is her mutation? You didn't say and I never thought to ask.~

~She is cognitive,~ Xavier projected as he glanced at Scott. ~She can see the past and the future.~

~So the strength and speed she demonstrated was definitely not her mutation?~ Scott projected back to Xavier as he thought about the bear hug that Buffy had just given him.

~No. And I don't understand it. Mutants generally do not have multiple gifts. And the ones that do develop them over time. ~ Xavier projected back with a shake of his head. ~She is just now coming into her powers and should not have developed a second so soon. I will have to run some tests. She may be a class five.~

~A class five?~ Scott projected back shocked to think of his cousin possibly being one of the most powerful mutants on the planet.

~Possible, yes.~

Scott and Xavier made their way inside the house to find Joyce, Hank and Buffy waiting for them.

"Hello, nephew," Hank said as he held out his hand and Scott took it and gave his Uncle a hearty handshake.

"Hello, Uncle Hank," Scott said before turning towards Joyce and pulling her into a warm inviting hug. "Hello, Aunt Joyce."

"How have you been, Scott?" Joyce asked.

"I've been good," Scott said with a smile. "Let me introduce you to Charles Xavier, the headmaster and founder for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Scott has told me a lot about the both of you," Xavier said.

Joyce smiled. "All good I hope."

"All good," said Xavier with a smile.

"So what brings you with my nephew?" asked Hank.

Xavier looked to Scott who nodded. "Uncle I have talked Professor Xavier in to allowing Buffy into his school on a full scholarship as a personal favor to me," Scott said as Hank and Joyce looked at each other with astonishment. They had both wanted to send Buffy to private school but had been unable to afford it.

"Mom, Dad can I go?" Buffy asked still quite excited at the prospect of seeing the school that Scott had went to and now taught at.

Hank and Joyce looked at each other and then politely excused themselves to talk privately about the possibility of sending Buffy to the school.

"So Scotty," said Buffy after her parents had walked out of the room. "Tell me did you like the school when you went there?"

"Yes, Squirt, I did," Scott said as he smiled at Buffy. "And you will too."

"Indeed. You will make an excellent student and I can even help teach you to control your mutation." Xavier said.

Buffy blinked in shock at the revelation. She was a mutant? "Mutation? You mean I'm like Scotty?" she asked.

Xavier nodded as he rolled over to her. "You are a mutant, yes," he said. "Have you been seeing things before they happen?"

"Yes," said Buffy as she looked at Professor Xavier. "The other day I was walking home from school when I saw this kid getting hit by a car. Then the next thing I knew I saw the same kid coming down the sidewalk. I went and stopped him before he could enter the street and get hit. There have been other times that's happened where I would see things before they happened, and they are coming more and more frequently now."

"Much as I expected," said Xavier with a nod. "I can help you to control your mutation and then to eventually be able to call it on demand."

Joyce and Hank reentered the living room and approached Scott, Xavier and Buffy with a serious look on their faces. Buffy was worried they would say no that she couldn't go to the school Scott had gone to. "We've discussed it," said Joyce. "If Buffy wants to go we'll let her. For us it's kind of a dream come true. We would love to have been able to send her to a private school, but have been unable to afford it. But it's up to you, sweetheart. If you don't want to go we're not going to make you."

Buffy smiled and hugged Joyce and then Hank. "I want to go," she said excitedly. "Thank you mom, dad."

"Then I will head back to the school and prepare for Buffy's arrival," said Xavier. "Scott you should stay and bring Buffy say in a week. That way she has time to say goodbye to her friends. And you can iron out details with your Aunt and Uncle."

"Of course, Professor," Scott said.

**_One Week Later in Los Angeles, California_**

Merrick arrived at Hemery High School to find the Slayer he had been assigned. A teenager who had somehow slipped through the cracks and had not been trained.

"Yes, sir, can I help you?" asked the school secretary as Merrick stepped into the office.

"I am looking for Buffy Summers," Merrick said. Through the Devon Coven, the Watcher's Council had been given a description and the name of the Slayer. Yet he did not know where to find her. "I am with the University of California, Berkley. I was sent to see about offering her a scholarship to attend after she graduates." He produced an ID that showed that he supposedly was who he said he was.

The secretary pulled up Buffy's file and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Merrick. Miss Summers has been removed from enrollment in our school."

Merrick nodded thanking the secretary and left. He used a few contacts and found out that Hank and Joyce Summers had filed for divorce and that Joyce Summers was moving to Sunnydale, California to open up her own art gallery.

**_Across the country in Westchester County, New York_**

Scott was driving the car down the road towards the mansion that served as the home of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. "So Squirt are you nervous?" he asked glancing briefly at his cousin.

"A little," said Buffy. "Will there be others there like me?"

"Do you mean a mutant or with your mutation?" Scott asked.

"My mutation. I know from what you said that there are other mutants that attend the school," Buffy said.

Scott nodded and glanced at Buffy again as he smiled. "There are other cognitives in the world, yes. But there won't be another cognitive there," he said.

"How will Professor Xavier help me to control it?" asked Buffy, she was curious on how he would be able to do it.

"He is telepathic," Scott told her, "he can help you to build the mental walls you need to block out your power from overwhelming you."

Buffy looked out the windshield astonished at the building in front of her as they drove towards the mansion. "Wow," she said. "That place is big."

"There is five floors," Scott said. "Three are above ground and two below ground. The classrooms and living quarters are all above ground. Unless you get sick there is very little reason you will go into the sublevels. Our medical center is in the sublevels."

"I don't like hospitals anyways," said Buffy. Ever since she had watched her cousin, and Scott's sister, Celia die she had refused to step in another hospital.

"You still miss her," Scott said as he too remembered Celia.

Buffy looked at her cousin and nodded. "I do," she said. "Just as I know you do."

"I do," Scott said as he glanced at Buffy and smiled. "But at least we still have each other."

"Yeah," Buffy said.

Scott parked the car at the front entrance to the mansion. "Here we are," he said as they got out and Scott grabbed Buffy's luggage. "Come on Squirt."

Inside they found Ororo Monro and Jean Grey waiting for them in the foyer. "Buffy, this is Ororo Munroe and Jean Grey," Scott said in introduction. "They are two of the professors here and good friends."

Buffy smiled. "Hi," she said. She remembered that Scott had mentioned in the letters he had written her over the last few years, that Jean was his girlfriend. "It's nice to meet you both, especially you Jean. Scott has told me a lot about you in his letters."

"All good I hope," said Jean with a smile.

"All good," said Buffy.

"Hi, Buffy. Want to come with Scott and me on a little trip?" Ororo asked.

Scott frowned. "Trip?" he asked. They had just got in and now they were being asked to go somewhere.

Jean nodded. "Yes, the Professor wants you and Ororo to track a mutant," she said. "He thinks Buffy's mutation could be of use."

Scott sighed and nodded. "Okay."


	2. Chapter 1: Rescue Party

**Chapter 1: Rescue Party**

**_In Sunnydale, California_**

Merrick walked into the high school library of Sunnydale High. He was looking for his old friend, Rupert Giles. "Rupert?"

"Merrick?" came Giles response from inside the office. He walked out of the office and smiled as he gave the American Watcher a firm handshake in greeting. "It is a pleasure to see you, Merrick. What is it I can do for you?"

"The Slayer," Merrick said. "Has left Los Angeles. My sources say her parents are getting a divorce and she is moving here with her mother. I need you to locate her and train her for me. I am needed back in Los Angeles. Lothos is there."

Giles sighed as he knew of Merrick's obsession with the vampire known as Lothos who had killed several of Merrick's Slayers in the past. "Merrick, tell me you are not planning on going up against him without a Slayer?"

Merrick smiled at Giles.

**_Across the continent in Alberta, Canada_**

Buffy shifted awkwardly in her seat in the Blackbird, the X-Men jet, trying to get comfortable. In the pilot's seat in front of her Scott dozed lightly, a visor strapped firmly to his face. In the seat next to him sat Ororo, who like Buffy shifted awkwardly. The last two hours had dragged inexorably past, the white snow around them falling hard, covering everything. On the tracking monitor, their subject, Sabretooth, was still a half mile away, stopped.

Waiting. They had no idea for what, but he was clearly waiting. And so were they.

"So…" said Buffy as she looked to Ororo.

Ororo turned in her seat and looked at Buffy. "Please call me, Storm. At least while we're out here," she said.

Buffy nodded. "Ok, Storm," she said. "What am I doing here though?"

"The Professor said you are cognitive. That you can see the past and the future," Ororo said.

Buffy nodded. "But I can't control it," she said. "Professor Xavier said he would help me learn to control it."

"And he will. But for the moment it is why you are here. Even with you unable to control your mutation it is possible you may see something that could help us," Ororo said as she glanced around at the raging blizzard falling around the jet. She then looked back at Buffy, "You're going to stay in the jet, okay?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure. So how long have you known Scotty?" she asked.

"Since he came to the school. So six and a half years," Storm said.

The sound of a hard crash echoed through the trees, waking Scott from his light sleep. He glanced first at Storm then at Buffy. "What was that?" he asked.

"Darned if I know," Ororo replied as Buffy shrugged.

They all studied the scope. Two other blips were now stopped where their subject was located, just down the highway. "Seems Sabretooth found a way to stop traffic," Ororo said.

Scott laughed. "What traffic? We haven't seen a car in hours."

"Let's go," Ororo said. "Buffy remember remain here. If your mutation kicks in and you see something." She pointed towards a button on the console. "This will patch you into our communicators. You let us know immediately what you see."

Buffy nodded. "Okay," she said as she watched Ororo and Scott climb out of the jet before moving into Scott's vacated seat.

Scott watched as Ororo created a warm breeze around them that held most of the snow back. Within a few seconds they were headed at a fast walk up the road, her breeze and their form-fitting X-Men uniforms keeping them warm and comfortable, despite the subzero temperatures of the Canadian forest.

It wasn't long until they saw exactly what was happening.

As they moved around a slight curve in the road, they could see where a camper had hit a downed tree, smashing the camper and scattering the contents of a trailer it had been pulling. The camper was on fire, with one person trapped inside, on the passenger side of the cab.

Sabretooth was fighting with another man, and as Scott and Ororo watched, Sabretooth picked the man up and smashed him through the windshield. Judging from the force of the throw, that person was going to be lucky to be alive.

But it was clear the person in the camper was still alive, and was struggling to get out—clearly trapped. And now that person had a dead weight on top of him or her.

Side by side, Ororo and Scott moved up and stood twenty paces behind Sabretooth. The hulking mutant started toward the camper; then he must have sensed them. He turned, then growled with a low, mean rumble, like an angry animal. He even looked like one, with the skins and long yellow hair.

"Seems we aren't welcome company," Scott said.

Sabretooth charged at them, moving quickly on the snow-covered road.

Storm stepped aside as Scott fired a hot red beam from his eyes. The beam hit Sabretooth square in the chest.

Hard.

Sabretooth roared as the beam picked him up and flipped him through the air, end over end, smashing through the high branches of the trees and disappearing in a snapping of limbs and brush.

Ororo nodded. Their foe wasn't going to be coming back anytime soon.

On the Blackbird Buffy's eyes clouded over as her mutation kicked in and she saw the camper explode. She hit the button that Storm had pointed out to her. "Scotty!" she yelled. "The camper is about explode!"

Scott and Ororo looked at each other for only an instant and they turn and ran over to the passenger side, seeing instantly that the intense flames were almost to the camper's propane tank. And it would likely explode any minute like Buffy had warned. Ororo kicked up a swirling wind filled with snow and rain to douse the fire, but it wasn't going to work quickly enough. The flames were just too close to the tank and too hot to be put out easily.

Scott yanked open the passenger side door.

"Don't touch me!" a female voice shouted, the person trapped in the cab was definitely a girl. "Just help me get the seat loose. I can't move my legs."

Ororo focused on the fire, but with the propane tank about to explode, there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. "Cyclops!" she said. "Hurry!"

Scott focused carefully and used his optic beam to dislodge the seat behind the trapped girl. The seat snapped and came loose. She quickly climbed out and over the hood of the camper, dropping to the ground. At the same time, Ororo pulled the unconscious man free.

Suddenly they heard the valve on the propane tank blow off.

It was now or never.

Ororo brought up a massive wind behind them, forcing it in low and hard along the passenger side of the camper. The wind caught her, Scott, the girl, and the unconscious man and slid them all down the road on the slick surface. All of them were knocked from their feet. Ororo was just climbing back to her feet when the camper exploded, sending flames and debris into the air, lighting the falling snow with bright orange and yellow colors.

Beside Ororo, the girl and Scott stood and stared at the flames. Then the girl said softly, "Thanks."

As they got on to the Blackbird Scott secured the man as the girl buckled herself in.

Buffy then hugged Scott. "I'm sorry I wasn't more use," she said.

Scott shook his head. "It's ok Squirt," he said as he smiled at Buffy. "You did what you could, given that you have yet to learn control over your mutation."

"I did?" Buffy asked.

Scott nodded. "Yes you did."

Buffy looked at the girl for the first time since she had boarded the jet and instantly recognized her from the dream she had days before. "Marie?"

The girl frowned. "How do you know my name?" she asked.

Scott looked at Buffy. "That is a good question," he said.

"A few days ago I had a dream, she was in it." Buffy said as she looked to 'Marie'. "I saw you kissing a boy."

Marie's' eyes went wide. "That was eight months ago," she said.

**_In Sunnydale California_**

Rupert Giles paced the library. He had notified the Watcher's Council immediately of Merrick's suspicions that Buffy was moving to Sunnydale with her mother. Quentin Travers, the head of the Council, had told Giles to check around and that he would be assigned Miss Summers' Watcher upon arrival if she was indeed moving to Sunnydale.

But the Slayer had yet to show and according to school records there was no new students enrolling. He quickly got on the phone and dialed a number. "Quentin Travers, please. This is Rupert Giles."

Giles waited a moment before Travers picked up the phone. "Yes Mr. Giles?" Travers said.

"I have done some checking," Giles said. "Miss Summers is not enrolled at the high school here in Sunnydale. Can the Council confirm that she was indeed coming?"

There was a moment of silence, Giles assumed that Travers, who was the head of the Watcher's Council, was getting a subordinate to check. Once Buffy Summers had been identified as the Slayer the Council would have made it their top priority to keep track of her.

"We have a business and home being purchased by Mrs. Joyce Summers, Miss Summers mother," Travers said. "In Sunnydale, California."

Giles nodded. "Is it possible she did not move with her mother?" he asked.

"Not likely. Mrs. Summers has custody and packed up her daughter's possessions and brought them with her," Travers said.

"Then we need to think that it's possible Miss Summers ran away from home. Either that or they sent her to a boarding school," Giles said. Both possibilities were likely. He had seen where Potentials had not been found before being called before. And when the family found out about the girl's increased strength and agility they would become very scared of their daughter and either sent her to a boarding school or the girl simply ran away. Those girls tended to only last a few days before a vampire found them. It was one of the reasons that the Council took every Potential they could locate away from their families.

"We'll check into it and get back to you," Travers said before hanging up the phone.


	3. Chapter 2: Logan

**Chapter 2: Logan**

**_The next day back at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters_**

Buffy stood in the infirmary watching the man that they had brought back the day before, a little wary of being in the room. She watched as Jean walked in and knew the woman had seen her there in the far corner.

"You trying to get over that fear Scott said you have?" Jean asked. Scott had told her early on in their relationship about his sister's death and how Buffy had watched it happen before her eyes. She could understand Buffy's fear of hospitals after an event like that.

"No just thinking is all," said Buffy with a shake of her head. "Is he going to be alright?"

Jean walked over next to the man and examined his X-rays. She looked down and ran her fingers over the traces of three incisions on the backs of his hands. "Yes Buffy," she said. "I think he will be alright." She turned and looked back at the girl. "Don't you have a lesson with Professor Xavier?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah," she said as she turned to leave. "I probably should get up there."

Jean nodded as she started to place IV in the man's arm.

Suddenly Buffy's eyes clouded over as she saw the man sitting up and grabbing Jean around the throat. The needle breaking in his arm. She turned back to face Jean as her eyes cleared. "He's awake," she said.

Jean looked at Buffy as the man grabbed her by the throat, choked silent by his grip.

Buffy ran over to the man grabbing his hand with all the strength she could muster. "Let go!"

The man looked at Buffy registering the strength of her grip and with a slight grimace he let Jean go, shoving her backward and to the floor.

Buffy moved to Jean who was gasping for breath. "You okay?" she asked as Jean nodded.

The man jumped off the table, realizing he was dressed only in his underwear. And there was something besides his clothes missing: His dog tags were no longer around his neck. He turned and ran for the nearest door. The sooner he found some clothes and got out of here, the happier he was going to be.

"Will you be alright alone?" she asked Jean as she watched the man leave.

Jean frowned but nodded. "You're not…" she started

"Remember how strong I am," said Buffy.

Jean nodded. Professor Xavier and Scott had asked her to run tests on Buffy's speed and strength after Scott, Ororo and Buffy had returned with their guests. As yet she could not explain how Buffy seemed to have not one but three mutant gifts. It was unheard of. A second was possible of course. She herself had two. She had developed telepathy first and telekinesis later on in life. But no mutant before had three gifts. She wondered if Buffy could possibly be an unidentified class five mutant.

"I can deal with him," Buffy said before she took off and chased after the man.

~Buffy.~ Xavier telepathically projected. ~Be careful. You don't know what he can do.~

"I know, Professor," said Buffy out loud. She had only been there a day and she still couldn't get used to the fact that Professor Xavier could enter her mind like that. They had already had one session trying to build up the walls that would keep her mutation from overloading her mind. And she was due for another after the end of Professor Xavier's next class.

**_Across the country in Sunnydale, California_**

A phone rang in the Sunnydale High School Library as Giles picked it up knowing likely who was calling. "Rupert Giles," he said into the phone.

"Mr. Giles, This is Quentin Travers. I have information. Miss Summers is at a boarding school in New York … Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It appears her cousin Scott Summers procured her a scholarship for her to attend there," Travers said.

"What does this mean for us?" asked Giles, he had heard of the school of course. It was reported to be a school for mutants, humans with superhuman powers. It was within the realm of possibility that they had thought Buffy was a mutant.

"We may have to have her eliminated, if we can't get her back to the Hellmouth," Travers said.

"I think having her eliminated may prove to be disastrous if what I've heard about that school is true," said Giles.

"What have you heard?" Travers asked with concern.

"That it is a school for mutants. That everyone there has superhuman powers, both students and teachers alike," Giles said.

"If your correct that means the Slayer is out of our hands indefinitely. We don't dare go up against their kind. The Human/Mutant situation is a volatile one. If we were to include mutants in our war, we would surely lose. They will fight to protect their kind, and if the Slayer is with them then they likely consider her one of their own," Travers said. "Mr. Giles book a flight to New York and talk to the people at this school. Let them know the seriousness of the situation. Get Miss Summers by any means necessary. If you can't and the opportunity arises, then have her eliminated."

**_Across the country at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters_**

Buffy ran down the hall, away from the lab, letting her senses bring her information on where the man had gone. She stopped at the first door she came to and saw that it was open, she was sure he had gone through here. She stepped inside to find herself in a fairly large room. One side of the room contained lockers, with a padded bench sitting in front of them. The other wall was full of black uniforms hanging side by side, each tagged with a strange "X" insignia. The man wasn't here as she spotted another door on the far side that was open. She took off and ran out the other door. She spotted him running into an elevator and took off as fast as she could run and dived into the elevator with seconds to spare.

The man glared at Buffy. "You," he said with a growl.

Buffy smiled. "Me."

~Buffy,~ Xavier telepathically projected. ~bring him to my office.~

Buffy nodded. "I will."

"You will what?" The man asked.

Buffy smiled. "I am to take you to Professor Xavier," she said as the door slid open on a very empty, very plush hallway, exactly the opposite of what was below. "Come on. No one will hurt you here. I promise."

The man looked at Buffy warily but followed her anyways. They walked down the hallway and into the foyer and up to a set of double oaken doors and opened them. The man stepped inside and she followed him, closing the doors behind her.

"Good morning, Logan," Xavier said.

Logan looked at Xavier who sat behind a large mahogany desk. He noticed there was a blackboard set up beside the massive desk, and four students were sitting in front of the blackboard.

They all now turned and stared at him.

"Give me a moment, please," Xavier said to Logan and Buffy. Then he turned back to his students. "I think that's enough for today, don't you? Off you go."

The four kids all stood and filed past Logan and Buffy, out the door, looking at Logan curiously.

Suddenly one of the girls turned back around and ran to the desk. "Forgot my book," she explained. She grabbed it off the Xavier's desk, then ran for the door. "Bye, Professor."

But the oaken door had already had been pulled closed. The girl didn't even slow down. Instead she simply ran through the door as if it weren't there.

Logan stared at the hard wood where she had disappeared, then back at Xavier.

Xavier held up a textbook as if it explained everything. "Physics," he said. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Logan just stared at Xavier. "Where am I?" he demanded.

"Westchester, New York," Xavier said. "You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention," Logan said.

Xavier smiled. "Yes, of course." He turned and wheeled himself out from behind his desk and moved toward Logan, extending his hand. "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. I'm Professor Charles Xavier. And this young lady is Buffy Summers, she's one of my students. You're at my school for gifted children. Actually, mutants, as the press calls us. You'll be safe here from Magneto."

Logan shook Xavier's, then, puzzled, he asked, "What's a magneto?"

Xavier chuckled. "A very powerful mutant who believes that there is a war brewing between us and the rest of humanity."

"So?" Logan asked, Xavier admitted. "I wish I did. But I believe Magneto is planning some kind of preemptive strike. I've been following his actions for some time. The mutant that attacked you is an associate of Magneto's called Sabretooth."

"You knew he was going to attack me?" Logan asked.

Xavier shook his head. "No, I just tracked Sabretooth, and he led my people to you. We need to keep you out of Magneto's reach until we know what his interest is."

At that, Logan decided he had had enough. "Sorry, pal. I've got to get back to my—" Suddenly he realized he didn't have any idea where his camper and belongings were.

"Sorry," Xavier said. "It's gone." Logan stared at him. "Your truck was destroyed. A fire started in the collision and ignited the propane tank. We barely got you out in time, and that was in part because of Buffy." Buffy blushed at the compliment. "There was nothing left." Logan said nothing. "Logan, it's been almost fifteen years, hasn't it? Since you woke up?"

"Woke up?" Logan asked.

"Woke up," Xavier said, "with no knowledge of who you really are. Living day to day, trying to piece together what happened to you. You know how to fight, though. You always have known, haven't you? And your nightmares are vague clues to a past that isn't completely erased from your mind. But now that everything has been destroyed, where will you go?"

"How—?" Logan asked. "How did you know all that?"

~You're not the only one with gifts,~ Xavier telepathically projected.

Behind Logan and Buffy the door opened as Jean, Storm and Scott came in, with Marie.

"Ah, thank you," Xavier said aloud. "Dr. Grey, allow me to introduce Logan."

Jean smiled pleasantly and stepped forward, her hand extended. "Yes, we've met. Call me Jean."

Logan looked into her eyes as he took her hand.

Professor Xavier continued with the introductions. "This is Scott Summers, also called Cyclops. He's Buffy's cousin. And Ororo Munroe, also called Storm. They along with Buffy are the ones who saved your life."

Logan glanced at them, but he turned his attention to Rogue and said nothing.

"Don't mention it," Scott said.

Buffy noticed Jean put her hand on the Scott's arm and smiled.

"What are you going to do with her?" Logan asked, moving closer to Rogue, but careful not to touch her.

Xavier smiled at Rogue with real warmth. "Rogue's been on her own now for some time, searching for a home. A place to belong." Rogue nodded as he turned back to face Logan. "We're going to give her that."

Rogue nodded again.

"So," Logan said, glancing at the others, "this place is sort of a dog pound for unwanted mutants, is that it?"

"It's a school," Xavier said calmly.

Logan shrugged. "I don't really believe what you're doing here, but, lucky for me, I don't care." He started for the door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Hold on," Scott said, stepping toward him.

Without hesitation, Logan slugged Scott, knocking him back into the wall.

Scott hit hard, one hand blocking his fall while the other shot up as he checked to make sure his sunglasses were still in place.

Buffy ran over to Scott, "Are you okay, Scotty?" she asked as she looked him over.

"I am fine, Squirt," Scott said as he scrambled to his feet, clearly angry. He started back toward Logan, but Logan stood his ground.

"Cyclops!" Jean said in a crisp, loud voice.

Logan's claws came out as Scott kept coming.

"Logan, stop!" Jean said. "Please?"

Buffy stepped between Scott and Logan, moving toward Logan, right at his extended claws.

"Squirt!" Scott cried, suddenly worried as Ororo stepped forward and stopped Scott before he could move any farther.

Logan kept his claws extended as Buffy stopped right as their tips nudged her throat.

"I know you think none of this is your concern," Jean said drawing Logan's attention from Buffy and Scott. "But Magneto will find you. And a lot of lives could be in danger, including your own."

Logan slowly retracted his claws.

Then Xavier stepped in. "Logan, I'll make you a deal," he said. "You give me forty-eight hours to figure out what Magneto wants with you, and I will give you my word that, no matter what happens, I'll use all my power to help you piece together what you've lost. And what you're looking for."

Logan, still staring at Buffy, nodded. His claws finished retracting, his fists opened, and his shoulders relaxed. "Forty-eight hours, old man," he said. "Cross me, and I won't feel any guilt about what I do."

Jean smiled. "Thank you, Logan."

Buffy smiled. "Thank you," she said as she moved back to Scott and slapped him. "Stupid."

Scott rubbed his face and then smiled. "I guess I deserved that."

Xavier looked to Buffy. "Buffy, why don't you take Rogue back to the room you two are sharing."

Buffy nodded, smiling as she led Rogue out of Xavier's office. "So why do you go by Rogue instead of Marie?" Buffy asked.


	4. Chapter 3: Rogue

**Chapter 3: Rogue**

The bright winter sun flooded the large solarium, warming the air around the students and Storm. Rogue and Buffy sat near the back, a pile of books on the floor between them, watching as Ororo lectured.

"So, the barometric pressure begins to drop," Ororo said. "Precipitation begins, and the air starts to move more rapidly. Now lightning strikes occur when strong thermal updrafts cause water droplets and ice crystals to collide, creating positively and negatively charged particles." A student named Frederick, who sat in front, raised his hand. "Yes?"

"Are you sure about this?" Frederick asked, smiling.

"Don't tempt me to demonstrate," Ororo said, shaking her head with a hint of amusement. Then she turned back to the board.

Rogue smiled at another boy, John, who sat in front of her.

Kitty, who was sitting on the other side of Rogue opposite Buffy, whispered. "So, that guy you came in with? He's really got steel claws that come out of his hands?"

Jubilee, who was sitting in front of Kitty, whispered. "No way. What kind of mutation is that?"

Rogue glanced at Buffy and shrugged before returning her gaze to John, who pulled out a lighter and clicked it. Then he held his hand under the flame and pulled the lighter away, keeping the flame in place, hovering over his hand.

Buffy and Rogue both were astonished at John's display of power.

John smiled at Rogue, and the flame grew into a ball the size of an orange.

"Showing off again," Jubilee said, shaking her head, but John ignored her.

Now the fireball over John's hand was even bigger, almost the size of a grapefruit. Then suddenly the flame was engulfed in a ball of ice. Glancing around, Buffy and Rogue found another student—Bobby—holding out a crystal rose for Rogue. Though beautiful, it was already beginning to melt.

Buffy and Rogue glanced at Ororo. She didn't look happy.

"John, what did I tell you?" Ororo asked, frowning.

"Sorry," John said.

Ororo shook her head, then turned to finish what she was writing on the board as John glanced back and smiled at Rogue.

Twenty minutes later the class ended as Buffy and Rogue picked up their books, watching as the other students left, some stopping to talk to Ororo about some topic.

Bobby took his time, until Jubilee and Kitty had moved off, then smiled again at Rogue. "You want to meet me for dinner?" he asked. "I'll show you around."

Rogue looked at Buffy, she knew Buffy was not only her roommate but a fellow new student and they were supposed to stick together at least for the first couple days while they learned their way around. Buffy smiled and nodded indicating it was okay. "Okay, sure," she said.

"Great!" he said. He headed for the door with a happy. "See ya."

Buffy and Rogue finished picking up their books as Ororo moved toward them. "So, how are you both doing?"

"This place is everything Scotty said it to be," Buffy said excitedly.

Rogue looked around in wonder, at the glass-walled room and winter gardens beyond. "This place is so beautiful. And everyone is so nice. I just—"

Ororo nodded. "How long have you been on your own, Rogue?"

Rogue looked at Buffy for a split second before staring into Ororo's eyes. She was sure Buffy knew the answer having seen what caused her to run. "Eight months. I've just been hitchhiking, trying to get as far away from home as possible. Get away from anyone who would know what I was."

Ororo nodded. "That I understand."

"I didn't know there was any place for us to go," Rogue said. "But this is wonderful. I've felt kind of alone, you know."

"Well," Buffy said, smiling, "you're not alone anymore."

Rogue smiled back and nodded.

Buffy knew that despite the fact that she and Rogue had been thrust together by circumstance they had already become friends.

"And the professor?" Rogue said. "He can actually cure me?"

Buffy and Rogue watched as the smile suddenly drained from Ororo's face. After a few seconds, Ororo sat down in a chair and motioned for Buffy and Rogue to sit across from her.

There, over the next hour, Buffy and Rogue learned that there was no cure for being a mutant.

That night Rogue walked out of her room quietly, trying not to wake Buffy. She walked down the hall in only her nightgown and the body stocking that protected others from her. And as Buffy slept, she dreamed.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_Rogue reached Logan's door and slowly opened it, peeking inside. "Logan?" she said softly._

_No response._

She moved inside and closed the door behind her, staring at him. He was sleeping fitfully, grunting and talking some in his sleep. _She watched him for a moment, then moved over to the big round chair near his bed. There, in the chair, she curled up and closed her eyes._

_After a few moments, she too was asleep._

_But she didn't sleep long. Logan's dream became a nightmare startling Rogue back awake. She moved and being careful, touching him only on his shirt, she shook him on awake._

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy sat upright in her bed, startled awake. As she opened her eyes they were clouded over. She ran out of her room and down the hall and knocked on Scott's door.

Scott opened it and saw Buffy's eyes and frowned. "Squirt?" he asked as concern flooded his voice.

"It's an accident. He didn't know she was there," Buffy said.

"Who?" Scott asked.

"Logan. He didn't know Rogue was there. He's stabbed her accidentally with his claws," Buffy said as her eyes finally cleared.

Scott burst out of his room as Jean and Buffy followed him. He rapped on Ororo's door before taking off again. Ororo came out of her room and she took off after Scott, Jean and Buffy.

Scott burst into Logan's room and stood frozen there for an instant until Buffy, Ororo and Jean shoved past him.

Logan was sitting upright in his bed. The claws from his right hand were extended through Rogue's shoulder and out her back.

Rogue was frozen on the end of his fist, standing beside his bed. He held her there, staring into her shocked eyes, not knowing if he should move or not.

Scott jumped to help, but Buffy grabbed his arm. "Don't touch her," she said. "Her mutation."

Rogue nodded, and then smiled at Logan. "You were having a nightmare," she said, her voice raspy.

"I know," Logan said.

Rogue eased one arm up slowly and gently touched his face.

His claws instantly retracted, pulling through Rogue like a knife through butter.

Rogue staggered back, mouth open in a silent scream. Her eyes were wide with fear, with shock, with horror. Then her hand dropped from his face.

Rogue stood staring at him, with Scott, Buffy, Storm, and Jean gathered around her but not touching her. And as they all watched, her wounds healed, leaving not even the slightest scar. She stood for a moment, a stunned look on her face. Then she bolted from the room.

Buffy turned and followed Rogue out.

"Rogue," Buffy said when they got back to their room.

Rogue turned and looked at her friend, tears in her eyes. "I almost killed him," she told Buffy.

Buffy sighed "He'll be alright," she said, she so wanted to hug Rogue right then to comfort her. But she knew she couldn't hold her for fear of Rogue's power. "I know what it's like to have a mutation you can't control."

Rogue looked at Buffy and nodded in understanding. They were similar in that regard, they both had powers neither of them could control. She wondered if in part that was why they had become friends so fast. "I know Buffy, we are both cursed in different ways."

The next day Rogue and Buffy walked with small trays of food.

Four of the other kids, including Kitty, were sitting on a stone wall above the garden, eating and talking.

Buffy and Rogue walked past the group on the wall, looking for a place to sit in the garden knowing that none of the kids wanted anything to do with them because of what Rogue had done. But no space was open. Behind them they could hear a few of the kids whispering loudly. They moved out of the garden and toward the basketball court. Some of the older kids were playing a pickup game.

Jubilee stood to one side with four others. She looked up and saw Buffy and Rogue, then turned away, making it very clear that Rogue and Buffy couldn't join them.

Buffy and Rogue moved away from the game, down a path leading into the woods. There they found a stone bench and sat, putting the trays between them.

"Get a grip!" Rogue said firmly to herself.

Buffy looked at her friend wishing she could hug her, comfort her.

"Rogue?"

Buffy and Rogue spun around to see Bobby moving up the path through the trees toward them. Rogue turned back to her food, pretending to be interested in it.

"Rogue," Bobby said, "what did you do?"

"I didn't mean to touch him," Rogue said as the tears started to come. "I didn't know what to do."

"They're saying you steal other mutants' powers," Bobby said, standing a few feet away.

"That's not true," Buffy said in defense of her friend.

"She means, not really—" Rogue said.

"You don't ever use your power against another mutant," Bobby said forcefully. Accusingly.

"She had no choice," Buffy said.

"If I were you," Bobby said ignoring Buffy, stepping away even farther, "I'd get myself out of here."

Rogue looked up at the fear in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the students are all freaked," he said. "So am I. And Professor Xavier is furious. I don't know what he'll do with you. I just think it would be easier for you on your own."

Rogue sat there sobbing as Bobby slowly backed away.

"Rogue," Bobby said before he turned. "You really should go."

He turned his back on them and walked toward the sounds of the basketball game.

"Wow that was harsh." Buffy said as her eyes clouded over and in the vision she received she saw Rogue boarding a train. "Rogue are you? Really?"

Rogue forced herself to stop crying. She picked up the banana and put it in her pocket. Then she took a large bite out of the sandwich. She looked at Buffy and noticed her eyes and remembered that Buffy could see the future. "Yes," she said. "You want to come?"

Buffy's eyes cleared as she looked at her friend and then at the school and then nodded. "Scotty and my parents will be mad at me," she said. "But right now you need me more. Yeah I'll come." She grabbed some of the food off her own tray and stuffed it into her pockets.

They stood, and without a look back, headed down the path into the woods, drinking the milk as they walked.

Behind them the sounds of the laughter slowly faded.


	5. Chapter 4: Chasing Rogue

**Chapter 4: Chasing Rogue**

Buffy and Rogue moved down the aisle of the train until they found three empty seats. Buffy hoped the car wasn't going to be crowded. She didn't want anyone sitting next to her and Rogue. Across the aisle, a young woman and child were playing together, laughing lightly. She looked at her friend. As soon as they stopped someplace she would call Scott and let him know she was alright. She knew it was foolish of her to come along. But what else could she do but be there for her friend. "Rogue."

"Yeah, Buffy," Rogue said with a nod.

"Where do you think we're going?" Buffy asked.

Rogue smiled sadly at her friend. "Before this all started I was going to head to Alaska. I think that would be the best place to go."

Buffy nodded. "Okay. Alaska it is."

"Buffy, you know you didn't have to come with me," Rogue said.

"I know," Buffy said. "But you're my friend. And what kind of friend would I be if I let you go off on your own."

"Hey, kids," a voice said.

Buffy and Rogue glanced up as Logan dropped into the seat beside Buffy, smiling.

Rogue turned to face the window without saying a word.

"You runnin' again?" Logan asked. "And taking this one with you?"

"How did you know we were here?" Rogue asked without turning her face away from the window.

"Well," Logan said, "the professor put on this metal head thing, and—" He waved his hand in disgust. "Don't ask."

"Sorry I did," Rogue said.

"You two even have tickets?" Logan asked.

"No," Buffy said with a shake of her head.

"Then let me give you two some free advice," Logan said. "When the ticket guy comes, hide in the bathroom. You won't have to pay that way."

Rogue and Buffy nodded as Rogue turned from the window to face Logan. "I hear the professor was mad at me," Rogue said.

Logan half snorted. "Why would he be mad at you?"

"Because she used her power on you," Buffy said.

Rogue nodded. "And I'm never supposed to."

Logan looked at them, clearly puzzled. "Who told you that?"

"Bobby," Rogue and Buffy said.

"One of the other students?" Logan asked.

"Yes," Buffy said.

"And you didn't go ask the professor or Storm or Jean?" Logan asked as Rogue and Buffy shook their heads. He then looked pointedly at Buffy. "Or even your cousin?"

Buffy sighed and shook her head again as Logan sighed and said nothing.

Logan leaned back in the train seat and let out a deep breath. "You know, I woke up one day. I had no memories, no life." He turned and looked straight at Buffy and Rogue. He held up his fist, showing them the marks on his hands where his claws were, just below the skin. "I didn't know where these had come from. All I had was the dreams of pain that wouldn't let me sleep."

Rogue and Buffy nodded, so he went on.

"At first I couldn't live with it. I can't even show you all the scars from all the times I tried to kill myself, cause they just disappeared. I looked at this power of mine as a curse."

Again Buffy and Rogue nodded, agreeing with him there.

"When you touched me last night, Rogue," he said, going slow and not looking at Rogue or Buffy, "I felt, for one brief second, death. And right then I realized I didn't like it. I realized I didn't want it anymore."

A tear was slowly making its way down Rogue's cheek.

"I just came to thank you for that," Logan said as Rogue nodded, saying nothing.

Around them a few other people came onto the car and took seats, getting ready for the trip. Logan had no idea where this train was even headed. He doubted Buffy and Rogue did, either.

"You think we should go back?" Rogue asked softly.

"I think you both should follow your instincts," Logan said.

Slowly, sitting there, arms folded around herself, Rogue began to cry. Soft sobs shook her small frame without making any noise.

Logan took his jacket off and handed it to Buffy. Buffy carefully wrapped it around Rogue's shoulders. Rogue tried to pull away from Buffy's touch, but Buffy held her firmly. Finally she gave in and sobbed into Buffy's shoulder as Buffy held her.

After a moment the sobs slowed.

"There are not many people who will understand what you're going through, Rogue," Logan said with uncharacteristic softness. "But I think this guy Xavier is one of them. And he seems to genuinely want to help you. That's a rare thing for people like us."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "She has one other."

Logan looked at Buffy and nodded in agreement. He had been told of Buffy's mutation to see not only the future but the past as well. Like with Rogue her mutation was a curse to her, for who would want to be able to see the future to know what's coming? But unlike Rogue she had the possibility of learning control.

The train whistle echoed down the platform, and the train slowly jerked into motion. "What do you say?" Logan asked. "We can still get off at the next station, hop a cab, give these geeks one more shot."

Rogue was clearly thinking about it, but not yet convinced. She looked at Buffy who motioned to her that it was her call.

"Come on," Logan said. "I'll take care of both of you."

Rogue looked up at him, her big eyes full of hope. "You promise?"

Logan took a deep breath. "Yeah, I promise," he said.

Then he frowned at them.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"No more heart-to-hearts, though, okay?" Logan said. "I can't tell you how much I hate this."

Rogue laughed, smiling. "Deal. Right, Buffy?"

Buffy nodded. "Right, Rogue. Deal."

Around them, people were talking and the car was rattling as the train slowly began to gain speed.

Suddenly everything lurched violently, and the train came to an almost instant stop, as if it had hit something very, very large.

Logan tried to catch himself, but it happened too fast. He went flying head over heels into the aisle, ending up flat on his back with a man in a business suit sprawled across his legs.

Buffy looked around noting that something was wrong as she looked at Rogue with concern.

Logan got out from under the guy and stood up. At a glance he could see that Buffy and Rogue were all right. That they had only bumped their heads, and that they were moving fine. Then he noticed that Buffy had a bruise on her forehead and that it was already clearly receding. And he realized she had some kind of healing ability like he did.

The car around them creaked and rocked again, sending more shouts and screams echoing through the air.

Then the train started backward down the tracks.


	6. Chapter 5: Destiny

**Chapter 5: Destiny**

The lights had gone, and the sound of metal buckling and folding surrounded Rogue and Buffy. It was so loud it hurt their ears.

People were screaming and trying to shove their way through the doors. Buffy and Rogue braced themselves between seats, and Logan had done the same in front of then.

Suddenly, with a massive tearing sound, the entire back of the car seemed to rip away. Everyone in the car except Buffy, Rogue and Logan scrambled to get out the front door.

Buffy and Rogue watched, as the figure of a man floated up and stood in the ripped-out area of the car. They knew instantly it must be Magneto.

Magneto floated toward them, the car's metal walls and ceiling rippling like water as he moved.

Logan stepped into the aisle, his claws out.

"You must be Wolverine," Magneto said. "I saw your tags."

Before Logan could even say a word, Magneto held up a fist, and Logan just froze.

Magneto smiled, looking Logan over. "That remarkable metal doesn't run through your entire body, does it?" He opened his hand as Logan's arms and legs spread out like a starfish. "I guess it does after all," Magneto said, laughing.

"Cute trick," Logan said as he suddenly started to sweat as Magneto pulled his claws out, more and more.

"Stop it!" Buffy and Rogue shouted, and they started toward Magneto. "Stop it now!"

"What the hell do you want with me?" Logan demanded.

"My dear boy," Magneto said, laughing still, "Whoever said I wanted you?"

Magneto glanced over at Buffy and Rogue. His eyes were cold and dark.

Neither Buffy nor Rogue could believe it, he was after them or at the very least one of them. Which one they weren't sure.

"No!" Logan shouted, struggling futilely against the force that held him in its grip as Magneto just shook his head and closed his fist.

Logan flew backward, smashing into the front wall of the train car. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"What did you do?" Rogue shouted, jumping out into the aisle and running toward Logan. Buffy jumped up and followed Rogue.

Suddenly Buffy and Rogue both felt a sharp stabbing pain in the back of their necks. Before they could even reach up and touch the syringes that had jabbed them, the blackness swept over them.

Rogue dropped where she stood, Buffy staggered two more steps and dropped next to Rogue.

The last thing they remembered was hearing Magneto laughing, as if from a long, long distance away.

Magneto watched as Sabretooth and Toad quickly loaded the unconscious Buffy and Rogue into cloth bags and pulled the tops closed. That would keep Rogue from touching anyone if they woke up a little sooner than he had planned. He had debated not taking Buffy. But Mystique had told him she was Rogue's friend when no other had been, and that she was the cousin of Scott Summers. That meant she could be used as a bargaining chip, not with just Rogue but Xavier's people as well. Mystique had also told him that she had found out that Buffy was cognitive. And he intended to try and sway her to their cause.

"What shall I do with this piece of garbage?" Sabretooth asked, kicking Logan who was still out cold.

"Leave him," Magneto said. "Bring the girls."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

_Buffy looked around her, she recognized the location as the Statue of Liberty. She looked around first spotting Rogue. She and Rogue were tied to some kind of machine facing each other. Rogue looked to be unconscious and that the rings around them were spinning faster and faster._

_Buffy got the impression she and Rogue were about to die. _

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy woke with a start to find herself tied to a chair.

"Awake I see," came a voice to her left.

Buffy turned to look in the direction of the voice and spotted Magneto. She glanced around for Rogue and noted she and Magneto were alone. "Where's …"

"Your friend?" Magneto asked. "Don't worry she is fine. I wanted to talk to you though. You seem to be a remarkable individual." He motioned toward Buffy's right where she saw a nude blue skinned woman. "Mystique visited you and Rogue at Charles' school in the guise of one of the students. She accomplished a few things while there, including looking through Charles' records. She found out the fact that you are cognitive."

"Cogniwhasit?" Buffy asked in her best valley girl act.

"Cognitive," Magneto corrected. "You can …"

"She's playing with you, Erik," Mystique said. "She knows what it means."

Buffy nodded as she smiled. "It means I can see the past and the future."

Magneto rolled his eyes. "I'm going to offer you a choice," he said. "Your talents could be useful in helping to safeguard our brethren. Join us."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The police boat bumped gently into the Liberty Island's dock as Mystique moved to quickly tie it off. Then she turned and said, "Clear."

Magneto came up from below, followed a safe distance behind by Rogue and Buffy. They were wrapped in tight-fitting jackets, their hands tied together, a metal collar around their necks so Magneto could control them completely.

He stepped up on the deck and took a deep breath of the cold bay air, then looked up at the Statue of Liberty towering above them.

"Isn't it magnificent?" Magneto asked.

"I've seen it," Rogue said.

"So have I." Buffy said as she remembered her dream. She was now sure it had not been a dream but a cognitive vision of the future. She looked at Rogue and knew unless something happened and soon. She and Rogue were going to die. To some degree she wished she had told Magneto yes in hopes that he would spare her and Rogue.

Magneto took off his helmet and held it under his arm, then looked back up at the statue. "I first saw her in 1949. America was going to be the land of tolerance. Of peace."

Sabretooth jumped down onto the deck and helped Mystique uncover the machine.

"Are you going to kill us?" Rogue asked.

Magneto looked from the statue to Rogue and Buffy, then nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" Rogue asked.

"Because there is no land of tolerance," Magneto replied looking at Rogue. "There is no land of peace." He pointed up at the Liberty statue. "Not here, not anywhere."

"I'm sure the professor doesn't agree with you on that," Buffy said.

"True," Magneto said. "But Charles has not seen what I've seen. Women and children, whole families, destroyed simply because they were born different from those in power. Well, after tonight, the world's powerful will be just like us. They will return home as brothers, as mutants. And our cause will be theirs." He pointed at Rogue. "Her sacrifice will mean our survival."

"I'm thrilled," Rogue said.

"Granted, I understand that is a small consolation to the likes of you," Magneto said. Then he turned. "Put her in the machine. Secure her friend to the machine also. She can watch her friend make history." He looked to Buffy. "Since you refuse to convert I have no choice but to kill you also." He stepped off the boat and looked up at the statue. "Tell me when they're ready and they're secure, and I'll raise the machine up into the torch."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy looked at Rogue she was tied to the machine just as her vision had shown her, facing Rogue. She was sure it was meant to be cruel as she would be forced to stare into her friends eyes as she watched Rogue die. "How you holding up?" she asked.

"You want the truth or a lie?" Rogue asked.

"The truth," Buffy said, sincerely.

"I'm scared, Buffy. We're both about to die and I'm scared." Rogue said.

"So am I," Buffy said. "But if I die tonight there is no other place I would rather die than right here beside my friend."

Rogue looked at Buffy and smiled.

Just then Buffy's eyes had clouded over and she smiled, "Scott, Jean, Logan and Storm are coming."

Rogue looked to her friend and smiled. Maybe they would be rescued after all.

"I have bad news though," Buffy said. "They will not reach us before Magneto gives you his power forcing you to power this machine."

Rogue's smile quickly melted away. She looked at her friend. Being able to see the future was both a blessing and a curse for her friend she knew. In this instance she was sure it was a curse. "Buffy whatever happens, I am glad to have known you."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy and Rogue struggled to loosen the cuffs that bound them to Magneto's machine. Their wrists were raw and bleeding, and the panel near their feet had been dented by their kicks, but they had made no real progress at all.

Magneto stepped in through the door that led from the observation area into the torch, where Rogue and Buffy were being held. He was smiling.

"No," Buffy said. "Please don't do this."

"I'm sorry, my dears," Magneto said. He didn't look sorry at all. He actually looked excited, like a child on his birthday. Buffy and Rogue watched as he removed his gloves, then took a few deep breaths, as if he were getting ready to jump into a deep pool.

Then he moved up beside the girls, his cold eyes locking with Rogue's. Rogue tried to turn away, tried to pull her hands loose, but she couldn't. She looked at Buffy as the girls stared into each other's eyes. Trying to draw comfort from the other.

With Magneto's bare hands, he touched Rogue's face. Suddenly Rogue felt the incredible energy flowing into her. She could see everything that he had seen. She knew what he knew. She saw all the death, all the horror.

Abruptly, he let go and staggered backward, his face white with shock. The machine around them came to life, shifting, yanking Rogue's hands down onto the handles. Her hands trapped Buffy's hands, forcing Buffy's hands to grip the machine as she gripped Buffy's.

Rogue fought hard to let go, trying to use his power, his energy, to her advantage. And she failed.

Though Rogue possessed his power, the machine was in control. She knew, from the images that had coursed through his mind, that he had thought of everything. He had planned it all—down to the last detail.

And she knew she and Buffy were going to die. She also knew that, from this point forward, the process could not be stopped. She knew that if Magneto had been standing here, in her place, he wouldn't have been able to stop it, either.

A moment later, something shifted. The energy he had given her began to flow away, draining into the machine. Along with it went her own life force. Then she felt a new life force enter her as she watched her friend imprint upon her.

Then she felt it deep within Buffy the untapped power that even Buffy hadn't known existed. Then Rogue understood that Buffy was more than just a mutant; she was a Champion, a warrior, a Slayer. She watched as her friend's eyes slowly closed as Buffy slipped into unconsciousness. She was grateful for that because it meant that her friend would not have to watch her die as the machine pulled at her, painfully taking everything she and Buffy both had and pouring it into the spinning rings.

In the distance fireworks lit the sky.

Rogue used to love fireworks. She could see the beautiful colors, hear the distant explosions, as the machine pulled the blackness around her, covering her in deep and intense pain. She fought, with one last desperate burst of energy. But the machine took that also. And the blackness forced her eyes closed as the pain cut at her every cell. Then she knew she would see no more.


	7. Chapter 6: Rescue

**Chapter 6: Rescue**

"Rogue," Logan said, moving quickly to cut Scott, Jean and Ororo free from where Magneto had imprisoned them. "And Buffy."

"Rogue and Buffy," Jean said.

As Logan cut the metal away from Jean and Scott, she could see the white light starting to spread. They had to stop Magneto, and stop him fast, or thousands were going to die just as Senator Kelly had died.

Maybe even millions, if that white energy reached Manhattan.

Logan finished cutting Ororo loose and moved quickly to stand beside Scott and Jean. They were at the window, where they could see the torch above them. The white light was pouring out of the torch and spreading toward both Ellis Island and Manhattan.

"I've got to blast it," Scott said though he was worried that if he did he would hit Rogue or Buffy.

"Not with Rogue and Buffy still up there," Logan responded. He turned to Ororo. "I need you to lift me up there."

"I can't control wind like that," she replied. "You could fly right over the torch."

"If I don't make it," Logan said, "then Cyclops can blast the whole damn thing." He turned to Cyclops. "You see another choice?"

Scott glanced up, then shook his head. "Try it." He then looked Logan straight in the eye. "If anything happens to her."

Logan nodded as he grasped Scott's hand in a firm handshake. "I will deserve whatever you give me I know," he said. "Besides I made promise to both of them that I would look after them."

Scott nodded in understanding. He knew that Buffy and Rogue had somehow found a chink in Logan's armor and had wormed their way in. "Jean, help steady him."

"In the opening," Ororo said, pointing to the hole Sabretooth had punched in the wall on his way out. "Keep your body flat until you're ready to land. Then curl into a ball."

"Gotcha," Logan said.

Logan jumped up to where she had indicated, and then turned. Ororo's eyes had gone pure white, and the wind was starting to come up around him. Jean and Scott moved back against the wall and hung on while Logan stood in the opening, gripping the edge, leaning into the wind.

Suddenly he felt himself being lifted by the air, so he let go. It was like floating on a fast river of water. One moment he was in the opening; the next he was out over the bay and heading upward.

Like a parachutist, he spread his arms and legs, trying to stay flat, trying to give some surface for Ororo's wind to work against.

And he was trying his best not to panic. He knew now that he really hated flying.

Above him, the torch and the white cloud of light were coming on fast.

He focused on his target. He was going to have to time this perfectly.

Just as he passed above the balcony that curved around the torch, he tucked into a tight ball, right over Magneto's head.

The look on the old mutant's face was priceless.

The wind stopped, and Logan's speed and momentum sent him shooting directly at the machine.

There was Buffy and Rogue. And there were the rings, spinning.

"Oh, shit!" he said.

Reacting instinctively, he extended his claws, and using them like a diver uses his hands to break the surface of the water, he went in.

The claws sheared through one of the rings, sending it careening off into the night air. He was moving fast enough that one of the other rings only took a nick out of one of his boots.

He hit the base of the machine and came up quickly, wrapping himself over Rogue and Buffy, careful not to touch any of Rogue's bare skin, trying to protect her and Buffy from any flying shards of metal.

Around him the machine continued to operate, but now it was off balance and one ring short. The entire thing started to shake as it built to full power, ripping itself apart at the same time.

Rogue jerked and twitched as the machine drained the life from her.

Logan looked at Buffy, touching her briefly looking for a pulse and then smiling when he found one. She was still alive, thankfully. But he was sure if he did not stop the machine she would not stay that way.

The white cloud of light had extended halfway to Ellis Island and was still spreading toward the city. He had to do something to stop it. And to save Rogue and Buffy.

Keeping both Rogue and Buffy sheltered as best he could, he reached out with his claws and thrust them into the blur of rings that spun around him.

It was like sticking a finger into a high-speed fan.

Snap! His hand was smashed sideways as his claws sliced through another ring. Once again, his shoulder was wrenched out of its socket. New pain coursed through him, making him shout out in agony.

Now the machine around him was really tearing itself apart. The sound had changed from a humming into a massive roar, like a jet engine straining to shove a plane into the air.

Only this was one very sick engine.

The shaking was like being inside a giant blender. It was everything he could do just to hold on.

The remaining rings had lost all semblance of balance. Logan hoped fervently that the entire arm of the statue didn't fall off. It hadn't been designed to take anything like this, he was sure.

Then everything exploded around him.

The remaining rings on the massive machine tangled with a shriek of ripping and tearing metal. Then they blew outward, sending deadly fragments flashing across the bay. The air was filled with massive explosions, far louder than the fireworks had been.

The white light stalled, then just seemed to vanish. Soon it was as if it had never been there.

Logan's ears were ringing, and his arms and hands hurt from holding on so tightly. He was cut in a dozen more places, and he doubted his shoulder was ever going to be the same.

But he was alive.

And the light had been stopped.

He climbed out of the wreckage and stepped to the balcony level. Nothing much was left of the torch of Lady Liberty.

Magneto stood there, his face crimson with anger and bleeding from a gash along his forehead. He stormed toward Logan. "You have ruined it!"

"That was the plan," Logan said, bracing himself. "Just not yours."

Magneto waved his arm, and a few small pieces of wreckage went flying at Logan. But nothing big.

"Feeling a little weak, huh?" Logan asked. He batted the small hunks of metal aside like annoying flies and stepped right up into the face of the old mutant. "You just disgust me."

Magneto's eyes went round, as if he were suddenly very afraid for his own life. And that disgusted Logan even more.

With one hand he gripped the old man's vest and lifted him in the air. Then he extended the claws on the other hand and reared back, holding his fist up in front of Magneto's face, clearly ready to swing.

"Say good-bye," Logan growled, his voice low and mean.

Then, just as he was about to run the man through, he retracted his claws and just decked the guy with the hardest punch he could throw.

Magneto's head jerked around, his helmet flying off into space. The old mutant slumped to the surface of the statue, out cold.

Logan stood over him for a second, and then shook his head. "That's a lot less than you deserve."

With a hard kick to Magneto's side for good measure, Logan turned and moved back toward Rogue and Buffy.

"Come on, kids," Logan said as he dug them both out of the wreckage. He cut the metal straps securing Buffy and then turned to Rogue. "Time to go home."

Buffy was already regaining consciousness. She looked at Rogue and noticed that her friend wasn't moving. That she wasn't breathing. That she was gone, still strapped into the remains of Magneto's machine.

"Oh, God, no," Logan said as he had realized what Buffy had. He cut off the metal straps and let Rogue slump into his lap.

Rogue didn't move.

Buffy and Logan stared at Rogue. They looked out at the police boats streaming toward them from Ellis Island and from the city. And at the ring of helicopters hovering close around the island, waiting for the ground forces to get into position. There wasn't much time.

Buffy knew what Logan was thinking as she was thinking the same thing as she held out her hand. She had seen her own regenerative abilities, while not as good as Logan's were still better than a normal human. "Together?"

Logan looked to Buffy confused for a moment and then he remembered what he had seen on the train. She had regenerative abilities of her own. He nodded as Ororo floated up on a wind and landed on the platform next to Magneto's body.

Logan pulled off his gloves, reached down as he and Buffy both touched Rogue's face.

The shock jolted them, and they could feel their energy flowing into Rogue.

On Logan's chest, his wounds reopened, and his bleeding started to get much worse.

Buffy began to feel weak as her legs buckled beneath her.

And then blackness took them both.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know I keep ending chapters with cliffhangers and I am sorry it was not intentional.


	8. Chapter 7: To Live or To Die

**Chapter 7: To Live or To Die**

In the blackness Buffy swam against an impossible current and then slowly then scene changed and she saw a fire and a girl, not much older than herself, standing next to it. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am the Guide."

"Where am I?" Buffy asked.

"Within."

"Within?" Buffy said. "Within what? This is a dream, isn't it?"

"It is a vision."

"A vision of what?" Buffy asked.

"Of her."

Then Buffy saw Rogue and smiled. "She lives."

"Yes. She was called."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked. But she received no answer as both the girl and Rogue disappeared and the blackness returned.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Welcome back," Jean said, smiling.

Xavier smiled. He felt surprisingly refreshed, almost as if waking from a long nap.

"I knew you could make it," Jean said.

"I had a good guide," he answered, taking her hand and squeezing it. Then he remembered what had been going on when he had went into Cerebro. "What happened?"

"We stopped Magneto," Jean said. She stepped aside and looked over her shoulder. Xavier could see Buffy and Logan on tables across the lab, tubes running from their arms. "Logan isn't healing. And Buffy, she's in a coma, she's not waking up."

Xavier nodded, then took a deep breath. "I think I have some catching up to do."

"And resting," Jean said.

"That, I've been doing," he said. "I think I have enough energy for a story before my next nap."

She laughed softly, wistfully, and pulled up a chair.

He looked at Buffy again and let out a sigh. "How's Scott?"

Jean followed his gaze and she too sighed. "Proud and sad. As you know Professor she has regenerative abilities, but not to the level of Logan's. She and Logan willingly gave some of their power to Rogue. Scott is proud of her for that. Still he is sad that she has not woken up. I had to send him to bed an hour ago because he was not sleeping. He had refused to leave her side."

Xavier nodded.

An hour later he knew it all and he was prouder of his students than he ever could have imagined being, especially of Buffy. For it had been her sacrifice, hers and Logan's, that had saved Rogue.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Later Jean sat with Scott, Ororo, and about two dozen of the older students in the large recreational room, staring at the large-screen television. They were watching the news.

"Quiet now," Ororo said to the kids as the anchorman came back on.

_"Even after last week's terrorist attack on the Statue of Liberty by suspected mutants, the outcome of the Senate vote just moments ago was fifty against, forty-nine in favor of the Mutant Registration Act. It has been defeated."_

Jean felt as if her heart were about to explode out of her chest.

Around her the children shouted and cheered and stamped their feet, hugging and even crying.

"Quiet!" Ororo ordered. "Everybody quiet!"

The anchorman continued with his report. _"Many feel that this narrow defeat was due, in large part, to the disappearance of Senator Robert Kelly, who until this last week, provided the loudest voice in the cry for mutant registration. No sign of Senator Kelly has yet been found. Police fear foul play."_

Jean stood, wiping her hands on her pants as if that would finally clean off the entire distasteful subject of mutant registration. She wished it would, but she knew, as did everyone in the room, that the attempt to control mutants was far from over. In fact they had gotten word of a potential program that was being spearheaded by Kelly's supporters known only as Sentinel. So far nothing was known of this program outside of the Senate.

With a glance at Rogue and Scott, Jean left the talking and cheering group and headed down to the medical lab.

Rogue had come through everything just fine; the only outward sign of her ordeal was a streak of white hair.

But neither Buffy nor Logan were faring as well.

A minute later she was beside Buffy and Logan's beds in the medical lab. She uncapped a new IV and started to put it into Logan's arm.

Suddenly, just as had happened the first time she had treated him, Logan raised his hand up and grabbed her. But this time his touch was gentle, and he grasped her arm instead of her neck.

"Hey," he said, opening his eyes to look at her.

"Hey, yourself," she said, smiling down at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," he lied.

She laughed. Clearly he was in deep pain. But it was just like him to say he was fine.

She checked under one bandage on his arm. His wound was healing now, and healing quickly. It looked as if he was coming back.

"That was a brave thing you and Buffy did for Rogue," she said as she replaced his bandage.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"She's fine," Jean said, holding his hand. "She took on a few of yours and Buffy's more charming personality traits for a few days, but we lived through it." She leaned in close and whispered. "I think she's a little taken with you."

"Well," Logan said, smiling, "you can tell her my heart belongs to someone else."

Jean stared at him. There was no doubt the two of them shared a unique connection. And she admired him a great deal. But her love was with Scott. "You know, you and I—"

Logan smiled. "How's Xavier doing?"

Jean laughed. He had let her off the hook. "He's good."

"Good," Logan said, and Jean could tell he actually meant it. "And Buffy?"

Jean looked over at the other table and sighed as he followed her gaze. "She hasn't woken up," she said.

Logan let out a growl of frustration. Was it possible her part in saving Rogue would cost Buffy her own life. He hoped not. Not just for her sake or for Scott's or even Rogue's but for his own also. He had never seen himself as the father type. But both she and Rogue had grown on him, and he did not want to lose her.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In Xavier's office Xavier was seated with Rupert Giles. "What is it I can do for you, Doctor Giles?"

Giles smiled. "It is about Buffy Summers," he said. "I believe you have her here at your school because you believe she is a mutant."

"She is a mutant, sir," Xavier said.

Giles shook his head, "She is a Slayer. You see," he said as he started to recite the ancient prophecy. "Into every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the strength and skill to fight the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. To stop the spread of their evil, and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer."

Xavier laughed at the mere idea that there were actual vampires and demons. "There is no such thing as …"

"Actually there is Mr. Xavier," said Giles. "Vampires and demons are very real. And Buffy Summers was chosen to fight them."

Xavier sighed. "You know of mutants from your comment a moment ago stating Buffy isn't one," he said. "I am a telepath. Would you mind my looking into your mind for proof of what you say before we go further?"

Giles looked at Xavier for a long moment and then nodded. "Go ahead."

Xavier wheeled himself around next to Giles. "Think only of what you've told me. So that I can see what you know." He then proceeded to enter Giles mind. He learned of the man's career as a Watcher. Then he saw what the man knew about vampires and demons. He truly believed what he had told Xavier. Then he saw a memory of Giles actually facing a vampire under controlled circumstances. He then pulled out of Giles mind. "You've convinced me," he said. "But it changes nothing. Buffy Summers is a mutant. She has a mutation."

"You're talking about her strength, agility and healing abilities, correct?" Giles asked.

"No, she is cognitive. She can see the future and the past." Xavier said.

Giles eyes went wide at the revelation that Buffy was cognitive. "A Slayer that is cognitive is unheard of. According to the Watcher's Council we've had a few Slayers that were witches but never a cognitive Slayer."

Xavier nodded. "So you see why I can't let her go with you. She must be trained and taught to control her cognitive abilities," he said.

Giles nodded. "You are correct," he said. "Might I suggest further training from the physical side of things? So that she can learn control of her Slayer abilities also."

Xavier thought about it and then nodded in agreement. "Very well. But only by a member of my own staff."

"I…" Giles started.

"Would you be willing to leave the employ of the Watcher's Council and work here as a professor?" Xavier asked.

Giles thought about it and smiled. His own Slayer to train without interference from the Council. "Yes, I think I would," he said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Rogue stood with Scott next to Buffy. She brushed her friend's hair with a gloved hand and leaned down to whisper in Buffy's ear. "Thank you."

"I was wondering when you would say that," Buffy said as she opened her eyes.

Rogue took a step back and then smiled. "I'd hug you, but…"

Buffy nodded. "I know," she said. "We don't want a repeat of last time." She looked at Rogue as she remembered the dream. And she wondered if had been a cognitive vision or just a dream. Then for a brief second a thought flittered through her mind, but it was so quick that she paid no attention to it.

Scott smiled. "How about a hug from me instead," he said as Buffy smiled and nodded. He wrapped Buffy in his arms and held her. "You had me worried."

"Sorry," said Buffy as she noticed Logan standing across the room. "Hey."

"Hey," Logan said as he smiled at her.

Just then the doors to the lab opened and Xavier entered with Giles.

"Ah I see Buffy is finally awake," Xavier said.

Scott looked over at Xavier and Giles. "Professor?" he asked wondering who Giles was.

Xavier nodded in understanding. "This is Rupert Giles he is to teach Mythology as well as tutor Buffy privately."

"Is she a Champion?" Rogue asked, remembering what she had felt.

"A Champion?" Scott and Logan asked as they looked at Rogue wondering why she had asked.

Xavier smiled at Rogue. "Of a sort yes," he said. "You picked that up from Buffy I take it?"

Rogue nodded. "It wasn't a memory. It was something else, deeper. More like a destiny."

"A destiny," Buffy said. "What kind of destiny?"

Giles smiled. "That will be discussed during our first lesson. Your friends Rogue and Logan and your cousin Scott are more than welcome to attend. In fact I encourage it. It will help prepare them for what you will eventually have to face."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So ends X1. Next chapter will start X2


	9. Chapter 8: Museum

**Chapter 8: Museum**

**_September 1996_**

It was a typical weekday afternoon at New York's famed American Museum of Natural History; the bulk of the visitors were schoolchildren on a variety of class trips.

In the museum's basement was the food court, with seats galore and offering a surprisingly eclectic collection of items, ranging from burgers to sushi. Off in a corner all their own, polishing off the remains of their own feast sat John, Bobby, Buffy and Rogue.

"So I'm asking," said John, "what would be worse, to be burned to death or frozen?"

Rogue made an appropriately dismissive face, this was so not why they had snuck away from the crowd, but John could be worse than a mastiff with some topics. She looked to her friend Buffy who shook her head.

"Gosh," Bobby began, which made John chuckle. "I dunno, John. Seems like being burned would be awfully painful..."

John flicked the lighter, his eyes momentarily caressing the flame before returning to look at Rogue and Buffy. "It is," he said.

Rogue and Buffy turned their eyes away and knew the moment they did that they'd made a mistake. There was another crowd of teens sitting at the next table, a little bit older. Two of them looked up at exactly the same moment, and for that moment their gazes locked. They smiled, Rogue and Buffy let the edges of their mouths quirk in response, then they turned back to their friends in time to hear Bobby start to turn the verbal tables on John.

"But you know," Bobby said, "there's something pretty agonizing about freezing to death. You don't just drift off to sleep like most people think."

"Damn," Rogue muttered, "I was so hoping for a nap! Weren't you, Buffy?"

"I have to agree, Rogue." Buffy said.

"Enlighten us, snowman," John instructed.

"It all starts with shivering. Just a little at first as the body struggles to keep warm. Your skin turns a pale blue."

"Guys, not again," Rogue pleaded. "Change of topic, okay?"

Being guys, they ignored her.

"Then," Bobby continued, "the moisture in your lungs starts to freeze, so that even breathing is painful."

"This conversation," Buffy said as Rogue nodded in agreement, "is painful!"

"Those shivers," Bobby said, "turn into violent convulsions as your blood begins to crystallize."

"Wouldn't you be, like, so dead by then, Bobby?" asked Rogue in a tone that broadcast boredom.

"Worse," he replied. "Your brain starts to scream for oxygen and you can't stop yourself slowly, inexorably sinking into complete and utter . . . insanity!"

John looked wholly unimpressed and Rogue and Buffy actually yawned. "Insanity, huh? I suppose that might be considered an improvement over this little colloquy."

"Hey," said one of the boys from the next table.

Bobby and John looked up as Rogue and Buffy turned around in their chairs to find the boys from the other table standing over them.

"He said, _Hey_," said one of the others, after an uncomfortable silence.

"Hey," Bobby replied with a grin, hoping to defuse the situation.

But it didn't work. The others had responded to what they thought were a set of definite cues. When Rogue and Buffy didn't greet them enthusiastically, they weren't happy to discover they'd perhaps made a mistake, and adolescent pride wouldn't let them back down.

The second boy spoke again, jabbing a thumb toward his friend, who took a drag on his cigarette. "He was talking to her and her," the boy said, meaning his friend and meaning Rogue and Buffy.

"What's your name?" the first boy asked looking at Rogue and then at Buffy. "And yours?"

"Rogue," she said.

Buffy smirked. "Slayer."

That prompted a snort from the third newcomer.

"Cool," he said, meaning exactly the opposite, as in _look at these prep school jag-offs throwing off street names, figuring we'll be impressed_.

"This is Slash," boy number one said, "And I'm Bobcat! Nice ta meetcha!" He finished by reaching for Rogue's arm.

Bobby intercepted him, placing his hand on the older teen's wrist that was about to grab Rogue and speaking as easily as could be. "You really don't want to touch her."

"Excuse me," said Bobcat.

"Or what?" echoed Slash, "you gonna hurt him?"

Bobby shook his head. "Nope. But she might." He indicated Rogue.

Buffy slowly stood up, her eyes glinting. Rogue, knew what this meant as she had seen the glint in Buffy's eye once before, but only once. The first time Professor Giles had taken her, Buffy and Scott out and had introduced them to their first vampire.

The two teens looked at Bobby, looked at Rogue and then Buffy, looked at each other—and burst out laughing. Buffy grabbed the boy's arm that was stopped by Bobby and squeezed painfully as the boy grimaced.

"Buffy," Rogue said quietly, low enough that none of the boys could hear, but she knew Buffy would hear it because of her friends Slayer hearing. "He's not a vampire."

Buffy looked to Rogue and then nodded as the glint in her eyes disappeared and she released the boy.

"You know," John said, his voice dripping unmistakably acid contempt, "there's no smoking in here."

"No shit?" Slash sounded incredulous, returning an equal measure of insult. "Really? You got a problem with that?"

John flicked his lighter—open, closed, open, closed—while never taking his eyes off Slash.

Slash gestured toward John's lighter with his cigarette. "Got a light? It's a simple question," Slash said, "asshole."

John shrugged. "And I'll give you a simple answer."

Slash let his temper show, spacing his words for emphasis: "Do ... you ... have ... a ... light?"

John kept flicking the cap of his lighter. "Sorry, pal," he said, "can't help ya."

Rogue and Buffy looked at each other and sighed, they both knew this was about to get bad. "Knock it off, John," Rogue hissed at him.

"Please," Bobby echoed in frustration.

"Yeah, John," Shadow chimed in, "listen to your girlfriends."

John, not about to yield center stage, winked at Rogue and Buffy.

"I'm sorry, guys," he told them all. "Besides the fact that this is clearly marked as a nonsmoking environment"—he pointed to a sign—"I couldn't bear knowing that I contributed to your collective slow, tumor-ridden deaths."

For final emphasis, he flicked his lighter shut. But he'd miscalculated as Slash snatched it away.

"What's this?" Slash demanded, spinning it between his own fingers. "A fashion accessory?" His pals laughed and smirked. John lunged for the lighter, only to be shoved hard by Bobcat back into his chair. He struck a flame and lit his cigarette, making an exaggerated show of blowing a lungful of smoke into John's face.

Before any of them could stop John, before they realized the danger, John amplified the tip of the burning cigarette to white-hot incandescence and sent it flashing all the way to the boy's fingers and beyond.

Instantly what was left of the cigarette was reduced to ash. Slash opened his hand, even as the tips of his fingers blistered from the sudden, scorching heat, but it was far too late as raw flame raced up his sleeve to ignite his jacket and hair and set him aflame from head to toe.

Slash screamed—mostly in terror—and reeled away from the corner, slapping at himself in a doomed attempt to extinguish the flames. A succession of other screams were heard as patrons of the food court reacted to what was happening, scrambling to get clear of the young man or pull their own children to safety, calling for fire extinguishers, starting a stampede for the sole exit.

John stayed where he was, watching with a smile.

"Bobby," Buffy said.

With a curse, Bobby leaped to his feet, reaching out to Slash with his right hand, which suddenly turned transparent, as if the skin had turned to crystal-clear ice. The temperature in the corner dropped so low, so fast, that every breath around their table left clouds in the air, but more importantly a stream of frost embraced Slash like a blanket to smother his flames.

Rogue and Buffy stood, but before they could get clear of the corner the second boy—Bobcat—made a grab for Rogue. In Rogue's hurry, her coat had slipped off her shoulder, baring a stretch of bicep. Bare hand closed on bare arm, flesh made direct contact with flesh, and all of a sudden Bobcat looked like he'd just been hit in the belly by a battering ram.

His mouth opened wide, but he couldn't find the air—or even the will—to shriek his heart out as veins distended on his head and throat and Rogue bared her own teeth in a grimace of sympathetic pain, giving voice herself to the raw terror the young man felt. In midscream, Rogue wrenched free of him, breaking contact with such force that Bobcat collapsed forward onto the table, and she stumble-spun into Buffy's arms.

Buffy held her friend as Bobcat pulled himself up and cocked a fist to deliver a blind-side punch to John's head.

The punch was never thrown.

The four Xavier students looked around in amazement to discover that every person in the food court was frozen in place. They looked accusingly at Bobby, but he only shrugged in helpless demurral: This wasn't his doing.

Then the penny dropped, and four sets of eyes turned as one to the doorway, where Xavier sat grim-faced in his chair.

Clustered close behind him were Jean, Scott, and Ororo, and, farther back, the rest of the tour group. One look at the faces of their teachers told the students how badly they'd just screwed up. "The next time you feel like showing off, don't!" Xavier said curtly.

Scott glared at Buffy. "We will talk later, Squirt. And I am pretty sure Professor Giles will want a word with you as well."

Buffy's eyes went wide as she looked at Xavier and then back to her cousin. She was so in for it, she knew. She was sure that Xavier had told Scott about the Slayer nearly escaping and going on a rampage.

A faint flicker of energy appeared around Jean's eyes, and a television set in the corner came on. The channel quickly changed to Fox News as a title banner at the bottom of the screen announced the news that the midday anchor was breathlessly repeating aloud: MUTANT ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT. Behind the anchor there was a secondary window showing a live shot of the White House, surrounded by Secret Service and a detachment of Marines in full combat gear.

_". . . we repeat," _the anchor was saying, relief as palpable on her face and in her voice as terror, _"the President is unharmed. We are awaiting confirmation from the White House, but informed sources have told Fox News that an attempt was made on the President's life less than an hour ago by an assailant who has been tentatively identified as a mutant!"_

No one said a word for what seemed like the longest time. Scott finally broke the silence.

"Professor, " he said quietly, "people, I think it's time to go."

Xavier drew a deep breath and nodded his head.

"I think you're right," he agreed.

Moments later outside, Scott pushed Xavier's chair while Jean and Ororo kept the children in line as they hurried past a succession of momentarily "frozen" patrons on their way to the parking lot.

Rogue had her coat wrapped close around her, her hood pulled up to hide her face, and while she kept pace with the group, she kept a definite distance between herself and everybody else, except Buffy. Buffy was the only one she would even allow to touch her, as long as there was no contact to her skin of course. Buffy had an arm around Rogue touching only her friend's jacket, holding her lightly as they walked.

Later back at the school Scott and Giles sat with Buffy and Rogue in the girl's dorm room. "I am greatly disappointed Squirt. The Professor told me you came very close to hurting that boy." Scott said.

"I'm sorry, Scotty." Buffy said, not meeting his eyes. If it hadn't been for Rogue she was sure she would have hurt him.

Giles sighed. "Sorry doesn't cut it, Buffy," he said. "The Slayer does not punish humans. That is not what I am training you for."

"I know and I'm sorry," Buffy said.

"Still I think it's good, Rogue was there," Scott said. "The Professor said that you got her to stop."

"I don't know how I got Buffy to stop, really. I only said her name," Rogue said.

"I think I may have an explanation. Rogue your mutation allows you to absorb memories and the life force of the person you touch and in the case of mutants you can even absorb their mutation for a time." Giles said. "I think it might be possible when you absorbed Buffy's memories and her mutation, something of the Slayer may have transferred to you as well, creating a connection subconsciously between you."

"You mean I'm a Slayer now?" Rogue asked as Buffy remembered the dream she had while in the coma.

Buffy remembered the girl in the dream had said that Rogue had been called, what if it had meant this, that Rogue was now a Slayer.

"I don't know," Giles said. "Something like this has never happened before. The only real way I would be sure is to test your strength and reflexes and see if they now equal Buffy's. If they do then yes you may now be a Slayer. Either way I still believe there may be a telepathic connection between the two of you."

"A telepathic connection?" Rogue asked. "But I don't have such connections with others who I've touched or who have touched me."

"I think in this instance it could be a side effect of the Slayer," said Giles. "The Slayer is mystical not a mutation. We do not know exactly how mutation works with the mystical. For example is Buffy's precognitive ability a result of her being the Slayer or because she is a mutant. Would she have gotten another power if she wasn't a Slayer."

"So we are connected?" asked Buffy. "So what happens next?"

Scott sighed. "If you two do share some form of telepathy. It might be a good idea for Professor Xavier to train you in its use."


	10. Chapter 9: Friendship

**Chapter 9: Friendship**

Bobby Drake was flirting. He'd started with a shared Dr. Pepper, to go with popcorn and a mix of Skittles and M&amp;M's in Rogue's favorite colors, while they gathered with a clutch of other kids in a corner of the common room to watch some videos. Sitting opposite Bobby beside Rogue was Buffy, who had an arm around her friend.

After imprinting Rogue rarely talked to anyone other Buffy. So Bobby handled most of the conversation himself. He talked mostly of his childhood. Every now and then he'd pause, offering Rogue an opening to talk about her home in return, but she wasn't interested. He knew it was a futile gesture. She would only talk to Buffy immediately after an imprinting.

Somewhere along the way, Bobby and Rogue's fingers brushed. Rogue flinched away, even though she was wearing gloves and there was no danger, but Bobby was ready for that. He covered the gesture by challenging her to a bout of thumb wrestling. Rogue didn't believe her ears at first, who the hell thumb wrestles anymore? When Bobby assured her it was done in Beantown, she muttered, "That 'splains a lot."

But when he waggled his hand at her, cocking his thumb in challenge, she looked at Buffy for a moment who nodded before she responded with a grin; she shifted herself out of Buffy's embrace on the couch to face him, and held out her own hand.

Rogue trapped him in a heartbeat. She was faster than she had expected to be and way stronger, easily able to wiggle free whenever he tried to pin her and then turn the tables. She looked at Buffy again wondering if what Giles had said about her possibly being a Slayer now because of her mutation was true. It would explain how she was able to pin Bobby multiple times. She then turned back to Bobby who kept coming back for more, though, and she continued to let him, stifling the occasional giggle.

Eventually they were just holding hands. Neither was initiating the move; they were moving together of their own accord as fascination overcame common sense.

Buffy looked at Rogue about to say something when the roar of a Harley rumbled over the house. The sound rose in a steady crescendo as the bike raced up the long drive toward the house and just as suddenly went silent, right outside.

By then, Buffy and Rogue were on their feet as they charged the front door with a cry of "Logan!"

"Miss me, kids?" Logan growled as he sauntered inside.

Buffy and Rogue answered by hurling themselves into his arms, and for that first minute, the three of them just held each other, before Buffy broke away and Rogue pushed against him just enough to clear some room between them, assumed what she hoped was a languid and uninvolved expression, and drawled, "Not really."

Buffy shook her head. "Not at all."

Logan laughed, and Buffy and Rogue's expression immediately changed as they intuited that he hadn't done that in quite a while. Before either Buffy or Rogue could ask about him, though, and perhaps as a way of deflecting those questions, Logan jutted his chin toward the boy standing just inside the foyer.

"Who's this?" Logan asked.

"This is Bobby," Rogue told him, with just enough of a hitch to her voice to make his eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Her boyfriend," Bobby said flatly, looking the older man in the eye.

Logan held out a hand, Bobby took it, and immediately there was the faint crackle of ice and a burst of frozen vapor into the air between them. Rogue muttered under her breath, but Logan sensed she was also pleased. The two men in her life were fighting over her. Cool!

"They call me Iceman," Bobby said, unnecessarily.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Everyone has nicknames these days. Mine's Slayer," she said as Logan looked at her confused.

Logan had left before Buffy's first session with Giles and long before she had encountered her first vampire. Which meant he didn't know what the name meant. Of course he had never been sure what the name Rogue meant, not for sure anyways.

Logan looked back toward Rogue when he decided to ask Buffy later about the name. "Boyfriend?" he inquired innocently. "So, ah, how do you two—"

"They're working on that," Buffy said as Rogue blushed crimson and turned away, and Bobby colored a little bit himself.

"Ohhh-kay," Logan said. "Lemme know how it turns out. Meantime, I need the prof—"

"Well, well, well," called a throaty contralto from the stairs. "Look who's come back."

Logan returned Ororo's smile, hers unrestrained, his much more guarded. "Isn't that what the prodigal son does?"

"We certainly won't fault your timing." Ororo said.

"Eh?" Logan wondered.

Ororo smiled, "We need a baby-sitter."

Logan shook his head, "I'm outta here, darlin'."

"No, you aren't, my friend." Ororo gave Logan a proper hug and a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you, Logan."

"Likewise," he replied, but he no longer had eyes for her. She didn't need to be told who'd followed her down the stairs.

"Hey," he said to Jean.

"Hi," she told him. "Welcome home."

Ororo picked up the cue that neither of the others were aware they were broadcasting and flicked her fingers in the general direction of Buffy, Bobby and Rogue. A puff of breeze whirled across the foyer to give them a gentle push back toward the common room. They took the hint, with all manner of semisecret giggles at how the tables had suddenly been reversed.

"I'll go preflight the Blackbird," Ororo said, but she might as well have been speaking to herself.

"Bye, Logan," Rogue and Buffy called out as Bobby led them through the double doorway.

"Later," Logan replied absently.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Bobby called back as the doors closed behind him, Rogue and Buffy.

"You, too, kid." Logan said and then he looked at Jean. "What's up with Buffy and Rogue?"

"What do you mean?" Jean asked, though she was sure he had seen what all the teachers had seen over the last few months..

"They seem almost like…" Logan said.

"They're the same person?" Jean asked as Logan nodded. "We've noticed that too. They are quite inseparable nowadays. Rogue goes almost no place unless Buffy is with her and vice versus. In fact Buffy is the only one that Rogue allows to touch her. She tends to shy away from anyone else, even Bobby."

In the hallway Rogue looked over at Buffy, "Buffy, can I talk to you privately?"

"Sure, Marie." Buffy said and they bid Bobby a quick farewell and they made their way to their room. "What's on your mind?"

"Buffy, have you noticed how we always go someplace together?" Rogue asked.

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I like hanging with you."

"It goes beyond that I think," said Rogue. "I think when you and Logan imprinted on me something happened between us. I think Professor Giles hit on only a portion of it."

"A portion?" Buffy asked.

"Were connected definitely," said Rogue. "How I don't know. I'm fairly sure I share your Slayer abilities."

Buffy sighed and nodded. "I think you do, too. When I was in the coma I had a dream. This girl showed me you and said you had been called."

"Wow," Rogue said. "Anyways I think to a small extent you share my mutation as well."

"But I can touch people," Buffy said.

"True. But that's not what we're sharing," Rogue said as she took off one of her gloves. "I think I can touch you, now, without your imprinting."

Buffy stood there for a long moment thinking about what happened a few months before, how she had been in a coma for a week. Did she want to risk that again? Finally she stepped forward and took hold of Rogue's hand and brought it up to her face. Nothing happened.

"As I expected," Rogue said. "We're connected. I can touch you because you're already up here." She touched her head indicating her mind. "I don't know why. No one else has ever become immune to my power. No one else's mind has become a permanent guest. Logan has imprinted on me twice and he never became immune. And I only kept portions of his personality for a couple days afterwards. But you it's been several months and I still feel you in my mind."

"Maybe Giles was right it's the Slayer," Buffy said. "The First Slayer according to Giles was created using magic, ancient magic. Mutation is science. There is no way of knowing how magic and science would work together. We can't tell anyone though."

Rogue nodded. "Agreed. They wouldn't understand."

Buffy smiled as she ran her hand down the side of her friend's face, "How does this feel?"

Rogue smiled back. "Wonderful. I never thought I would be so happy to feel the touch of another person."


	11. Chapter 10: Stryker Attacks

**Chapter 10: Stryker Attacks**

Late that night Buffy came instantly, totally awake, one part of her mind automatically cataloging everything around her while her active consciousness came up to speed.

She was in her dorm room at Xavier's. It was night. The lights were out, except for right around the two girls, and they were no longer alone. Two men, one looming over her, the other over Rogue. Both wearing combat gear, full commando rig with night-vision goggles and laser sights on their weapons. The laser was what she'd reacted to.

Both men were bringing their pistols up to shoot.

Silently Buffy kicked up at speeds the man over her didn't suspect and hit him hard sending him flying back. She grabbed him before he was out of her reach throwing him into the other man. She grabbed Rogue and ran out of the room.

"Buffy talk to me," Rogue said.

"You know, I haven't learned to control it like that." Buffy said, in the months since she had first arrived she had only managed to reduce how frequent her cognitive visions came. But when she was stressed they came more readily than she would have preferred.

"It's ok Buffy," said Rogue as they slid into the secret passage as she brushed her friend's hair comfortingly. She was still amazed she could actually touch Buffy without her imprinting.

The assault force, knew they'd lost the element of surprise. No more time for subtlety. Time to shift into overdrive and apply brute force, to take down the kids before they could muster sufficient wits to resist.

When Buffy and Rogue knew the hall was clear they came out of the secret passage and started a search for other students to get them out. They had found three girls almost immediately. One of the girls was terrified, of course, huddled in a heap, face gleaming with silent tears in the random splashes of brilliance thrown by the circling helicopters and their damn spot lamps. Rogue found herself wishing, fervently, for some powers more appropriate to the name she'd chosen for herself, Rogue—something akin to Scott's eye beams, or Jean's telekinesis, or Ororo's command of the weather, or even Buffy's Slayer abilities. Even though she knew she was probably a Slayer, she couldn't touch the kids or even the soldiers for fear of them imprinting.

"Come on, honey," Buffy said, in her best baby-sitter voice, projecting a strength and calm she didn't have as she gathered the girl to her breast, taking care to always keep a layer of clothes between her own skin and the girl's.

Rogue and Buffy were glad now that one of the first things they had done together was memorize the network of hidden passages that honeycombed both the mansion itself and the grounds. At the time they were just staying in character; after all, a girl has to know how to slip away unnoticed for a night of private fun, even if she never found the opportunity to try. Now that work was paying off with interest, the passages enabling them to elude pursuit and scoot their share of students to safety.

"In you go, girls," Buffy told them, "just like Storm taught us, okay?"

The girl in Buffy's arms was clinging like a limpet, whimpering now along with her tears. Buffy was her lifeline, and she couldn't bear to be parted. Rogue looked to Buffy, they didn't have time for this. They were too close to one of the upper floor's big bay windows. The longer they stayed, the greater the chance of being spotted when one of the helicopters did a flyby and trained it's million-candlepower lamp into the house.

"Aren't you two coming?" the other girl asked. She was a Scots redhead of barely thirteen named Rahne Sinclair.

"We have to find someone first," Rogue told her. With a winning Highlander grin, Rahne pried the other girl's hands loose from Buffy's neck, offering reassurances of her own as she led the way into the passage.

"When you come out of the tunnels," Buffy told them both, "run straight to the first house you find. Tell them there was a fire. Tell them to contact your folks. Whatever you do, though, you don't tell anyone you're a mutant. Okay?"

The girl nodded uncomprehendingly, but Rahne knew the score. She'd take care of her classmate just fine. Buffy leaned forward to brush a wisp of hair from the younger girl's face. In return, she got a brave attempt at a smile.

"Okay," the girl said.

"You'll be fine," Buffy told her, and closed the secret panel behind them.

Quickly they scooted the length of the hallway. The walls and floor, the very air, were trembling again as the helicopters made another run on the mansion. They had to find cover before they were nailed themselves.

Through the infernal din, suddenly, unexpectedly, they heard a familiar voice, someone both Buffy and Rogue thought would be long gone from the mansion by now.

"Rogue," called John. "Buffy."

"Rogue!" bellowed Bobby, determined to make himself heard. "Buffy!"

"Bobby," Rogue cried, startled to realize how out-and-out delighted she sounded to see Bobby safe and free. John had to make do with just a nod of greeting.

"There anyone else?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not sure," Bobby replied.

"Petey Pureheart was looking after a crowd of kids," John said. "Outside of them, nada. Bad guys galore."

"Where's Logan?" Rogue demanded. "He was supposed to be looking after us!"

Bobby's face twisted. "What happened?" Buffy said, grabbing Bobby by the shirtfront. "Where is he?"

Bobby didn't need to be asked twice. "He was downstairs," he told her.

"This way," Rogue told them, intending to lead them back toward the secret passage.

Before they could move, an exterior lamp turned the hall brighter than noonday. They saw two shapes vaguely outlined in the glare, hanging outside the window. Immediately John grabbed Buffy as Bobby grabbed Rogue, and they all tumbled around the corner in a heap as an explosion shattered the leaded glass to bits, spraying the corridor with splinters and debris. Right behind the blast came the soldiers, targeting lasers tracing lines through the smoke, fingers ready on the triggers. Each door they passed got the same treatment: shotgun blasts to the hinges followed by a shot from a battering ram to punch it open, a couple of stun grenades to incapacitate anyone inside, sustained bursts from submachine guns to finish the job. Each room took only seconds to clear, and they did the job with murderous, methodical precision.

Rogue noticed the glint in Buffy's eyes. "Buffy," she said as Buffy looked at her and in the moment she had said Buffy's name the glint was gone. She knew she and Buffy had a connection but she still didn't understand how that connection allowed her to pull Buffy back from going into Slayer mode. Nor did she know why it allowed her to be able to touch Buffy. But she was glad at that moment that it was there.

Without a another word, the four young mutants decided that they didn't want to find out what would happen if they were found. When the soldiers reached the corner, the kids were long gone.

The mansion was crawling with troops, and from the sounds they heard all around, they quickly realized that nobody was using tranquilizer guns anymore. The bad guys were shooting bullets now, and they weren't being stingy with their ammunition.

Abruptly, Rogue stopped in her tracks, so suddenly the others slammed into her from behind. Harsh words were formed, but none were spoken. The sight before them wouldn't allow it. She was standing amid a pile of bodies, all soldiers.

"Logan was here," John commented unnecessarily.

"This is old news," Bobby said, reaching for Rogue. "We can't stay here, Rogue, we're sitting ducks. We keep running after him like this, we'll just get ourselves in trouble."

Rogue didn't reply, she didn't move a muscle as Buffy edged forward to look her in the face and then her eyes followed Rogue's gaze as she stared down at her chest. It was covered in green dots. Buffy and Rogue looked up, following the beams of light to their source, and found a team of soldiers in the far doorway, weapons leveled.

They never got a chance to fire. Logan saw to that. He was on the gallery above them, and with a primal scream that was so much more animal than human, he dropped on them like the wrath of God unleashed, arms held wide, claws extended.

The soldiers didn't stand a chance. Bobby couldn't watch. Rogue and Buffy wouldn't turn away. Something tweaked the girl's attention as their eyes flicked to the side, and they caught a glimpse of a smile on John's face and a glint in his eye. The same kind of glint that Buffy had when she was on the verge of switching into Slayer mode. They knew John was enjoying this that he wanted a piece of it for himself.

A brace of lights hit the entrance from outside and above, pinning Logan in their beams as the helicopters responded to frantic calls for help down below. They didn't wait for orders, they wouldn't have cared anyway; the moment their guns came to bear, they opened fire, pockmarking the lawn with craters and shattering the stone entrance to the mansion to powder. But their target wasn't there anymore.

"Go," Logan told the kids, pushing them deep into the house. "Go, go, go!"

John found the nearest escape passage, opened the door, then he and Bobby went leaping through at once. Rogue and Buffy held back. They called out his name.

"Keep going," he told them, and shunted them none too gently over the threshold.

"Logan," Buffy and Rogue pleaded as he shut the door in their faces. And they were glad.

Buffy and Rogue stood unmoving in the entrance to the secret passage, bitterly ashamed of the surge of emotion that had swept through them as Logan closed the door. He'd been a stand-up guy for both of them from the start, and this was how they repaid him, by being happy that he stayed behind. Rogue and Buffy looked at each other ashamed of how they had felt in that instance.

Hands grabbed both Buffy and Rogue's arms and the girls shook them off.

"Wait," Rogue told the boys, who couldn't believe their ears. "You've got to do something."

"Damn straight," John said hurriedly. "Run like hell while we've got the chance!"

"They're going to kill him!" Buffy said.

That argument fell on totally deaf ears. Both boys had seen Logan in action. Neither believed such an outcome remotely possible.

"Yeah, right." John scoffed for emphasis. "He can handle himself, Rogue, Buffy. Let's book!"

"Bobby," Rogue pleaded, "please! They're going to kill him."

All Bobby knew was that Logan was the scariest creature he'd ever encountered. He also saw the way Rogue and Buffy looked at Logan, spoke of him, cared for him, and he hated him for holding the place in Rogue's heart and to a small degree in Buffy's as well.

Bobby looked to Buffy, "Can you?" He was one of a very few people Buffy had confided what her mutation was.

Buffy shook her head. "I can't see on command, Bobby. I wish right now I could but I can't. I don't have that much control over it yet," she said as Bobby sighed.

"See what?" John asked.

"The future, the past and on rare occasions the present, or more precisely not exactly the present but like five seconds into the future." Buffy stated matter-of-factly as Bobby moved towards the door. "My mutation is cognitive."

Outside Logan blinked, wondering what was wrong with the air. A mist was forming between him and the soldiers, the temperature plunging so rapidly that one breath was normal, the next gusting a cloud of icy condensation as a wall of gleaming ice divided the hallway from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, forming a protective bulwark between the Logan and the soldiers.

Logan considered using his claws. No matter how thick the wall, he could speedily turn it into ice cubes. But first he had to deal with the damn kids.

The look on his face caused John to take a reflexive, cautionary step backward and made Bobby thankful he was inside the passage, his hands held flat against the wall to generate and sustain his ice field. Neither Buffy nor Rogue flinched.

Rogue met him eye to eye with a will as stubborn as his own. "Logan," she said. "Come on."

"Do as you're told, girl. Get outta here. I'll be fine." Logan said in a tone and manner that had always gotten instant results. Rogue returned both in equal measure.

"But we won't." Rogue said, then more quietly, "Please!"

Buffy stepped in front of Logan and he saw the glint in her eyes. "You will get in that passage or I will throw you in bodily," she said.

Logan looked at Buffy and some instinct told him that she meant every word of it, and that she could likely do it. He thought for a moment and then followed them into the passage.

John led the way, even though both Logan and Buffy could see a lot better in the dark. The boys wouldn't admit it aloud, but both of them preferred having Logan between them and the bad guys.

At the first junction, John went left.

"John, no," Bobby called after him.

"This is where Petey and the others went," said John

"I've got a better idea. This way," replied Bobby

The other direction ended at the garage. Like everything else about the mansion, there was a public space and a private one. Upstairs, in a carriage house set a little apart from the main buildings, was the usual group of SUVs and vans, plus the professor's vintage Rolls-Royce. The basement held a far more eclectic and personal assortment of vehicles, including Scott's collection of bikes. Some looked normal, others were as wildly modified and revolutionary in conception and design as the Blackbird.

The choice for tonight was a sports car, blindingly quick but so well-crafted and balanced that it could handle the local roads—which were narrow and wickedly winding—as though it were traveling on rails. The confines would be cramped, but it would carry them all.

John dropped into the driver's seat with the announcement, "I'm driving."

Logan yanked him clear as though he weighed nothing. "In your dreams, smart-ass," he growled. "Boys in the back. Buffy and Rogue in front with me."

"This is Scotty's car," Buffy said, mostly to herself.

"Oh, yeah?" Logan didn't sound impressed, but actually he was.

"We'll need keys." Bobby said.

"I know where they are." Buffy said as she walked over to a locker and inputted a combination into the keypad. She picked up a set of keys and walked back and handed them to Logan as they got in. "Scotty has been teaching me to drive."


	12. Chapter 11: Bobby's family

**Chapter 11: Bobby's family**

Logan drove them out of the evacuation tunnel and onto the road that ran along the estate's border and headed for the interstate.

"Uhh," Bobby said. "You could maybe slow down, you know."

"Like hell," John retorted. "Go faster, dude, get us the hell away from here, please! Jesus wept, what the hell was that back there?"

Buffy and Rogue caught a flicker from Logan's eyes. "Stryker," he said after a while. "His name is Stryker."

"Who's he?" Rogue asked.

"I don't know," Logan confessed. "I don't remember."

Rogue huddled next to Buffy. As Buffy cradled her, she played with Logan's old dog tags that he had given her before he had went to Alkali Lake looking for information on his past. She unwrapped them from her wrist and held them out to Logan who took them, rubbing his thumb over the embossed letters.

Logan shifted gears and John let out a yelp of shock and protest as his elbow clipped John's cheek. "What's your problem, kid?" Logan growled as John wriggled his head and an arm between the front seats, reaching for the center console.

"What are you doing, John?" Rogue demanded who had to scrunch over next to Buffy slightly so John could get at the console.

"Too much silence, dudes. Majorly uncomfortable. Don't like it," John said as he pressed a button and the speakers erupted with what passed for music from a techno band that none of them had ever heard of and, after the first few seconds, didn't want to.

Rogue gave several impassioned and derogatory comments about Scott's music selection as Buffy smirked.

Of course, being the ultimate gearhead, Scott had built himself a system only he, or someone who knew him, could understand. The controls weren't even marked. The more John tried to kill the music, the louder it became. Finally, when Logan was on the verge of ending their torment with a swipe of his claws, was when Buffy reached up and hit the off button.

Logan glanced at Buffy and smirked. Of course she would know how to work her cousin's insane sound system. He offered her silent thanks for saving the day, while she thanked him in return for his forbearance.

John was engrossed in his new toy. He found another button and when he pressed it, he found himself holding a two-way communication device.

"Guys," he announced, "I don't think this has anything to do with the CD player."

Logan plucked it from John's hand.

"Where are we going?" John asked after a while, totally lost.

"Storm and Jean are in Boston," was Logan's terse reply. "We'll head that way."

"My folks live in Boston," Bobby said.

"Good," said Logan.

Rogue looked down at her arms, more precisely the sleeping gloves that were shredded. 'Too much skin showing,' she thought, 'I have to be really careful about touching anyone other than Buffy.'

"Don't worry, Marie." Buffy said quietly. "We'll get you another pair." She patted Rogue's hand.

They made decent time and rolled into the Boston suburb of Quincy just past noon. Bobby gave directions, and Logan eased the car up the drive of a lovely two-story home. The garage was locked, so they had to leave the car exposed in the driveway.

Same went for the house itself. They were on the porch only a moment before Bobby found the key and let them inside.

"Mom?" Bobby called. "Dad? Ronny? Anybody home? We've got the place to ourselves." He looked to the phone and started to reach for it. "Maybe I should call—"

Logan covered the phone with his hand and shook his head. "Leave it for now," he said. "You never know who might be listening."

"What, your saying those guys tapped my parents' phones?" Bobby asked.

"I'm saying we need to be careful. This isn't a game, Bobby." Logan said. "Those troops were serious, and they were good. If we want to have a chance of coming out of this clean, we have to deal with 'em on that level, clear?"

Bobby nodded. "I'll try to find you two some clothes," Bobby said to Buffy and Rogue, and then, to John: "And you, don't burn anything."

Upstairs, Bobby gave Rogue and Buffy use of his own room and first crack at the shower. Rogue got in the shower first as Buffy stood watching the door. Rogue turned the water as hot as she could bear and let the spray pound her like a monsoon, standing with her eyes closed in the vain hope that when she opened them once more this would all turn out to be some dream or another bogus training scenario. When Rogue got out of the shower Buffy handed her a towel and she wrapped it around herself.

"Rogue." Buffy said. "Do you think Scotty's okay?"

Rogue swept her hair back from her face and tied it in a loose ponytail as she looked at her friend. She knew the reason behind the concern. Buffy had mentioned to her once about Scott's sister, Celia. How Buffy had watched her die at the tender age of eight. She knew that Buffy cared for Scott more than she was sure Buffy would ever admit. So much so that she knew that Buffy would likely be devastated if anything happened to him. "Yes, Buffy I think he's fine. And you will see him again soon."

They traded spots and Buffy hopped into the shower while Rogue watched the door. Moments later both of them feeling refreshed were back in Bobby's room. Rogue was flipping through his CDs, singularly unimpressed by his choice in music—was she and Buffy the only people in the school with any taste?—when he came in carrying some clothes. He must have thought they were still in the shower, because he went as pale as the clothes in his arms when he saw them. Suddenly they were conscious of how small the towels felt. And Rogue was conscious of how much skin was showing.

"Hey," he said in greeting.

"Hey," Buffy and Rogue responded in kind.

"I hope these fit."

"Thanks." Buffy said.

"They're my mom's. From before I was born. But I think they'll fit."

"Groovy," Rogue replied lightly.

He handed them both a set of clothes but made no other move until they motioned for him to do a U-turn and scoot. All at once, his composure vanished, so much so that he collided twice with the door trying to make his exit. He didn't close it all the way, though, and took up station just outside while they got dressed.

Downside was, the blouse he found for Rogue was short-sleeved. He had a solution.

"These were my grandmother's," he explained, holding out a pair of pristine opera gloves. The cloth would cover her almost all the way to the sleeves. Not a perfect answer, but one that touched her.

Buffy took the gloves from Bobby and held them out so Rogue could slip her arms into them. That was when Bobby noticed that Buffy and Rogue were touching skin to skin as she put the gloves on Rogue and that there was no adverse reaction.

"How?" he asked.

"We don't know how, not for sure," Buffy said. "We have a theory that dates back to when I imprinted on Marie. We think it might be a side effect of my imprinting. We're not sure how though since no one else has had this kind of side effect with Marie. Logan has imprinted on Marie twice and he's not immune. Don't tell anyone please? We don't want to be treated differently just because we can touch each other."

Bobby nodded. "I won't. Is that why you two always hang out together?"

"In part," Rogue said. "But there are other parts that we would rather not go into right now."

Bobby nodded. "Okay."

Rogue so wanted to touch Bobby right then to show her appreciation for not telling her and Buffy's secret. But she knew that if she did he would imprint on her.

Bobby turned and left the room heading downstairs. Just then Buffy's eyes clouded over as a vision of a car pulling into the driveway invaded her mind. She saw the occupants get out of the car and walk up towards the front door. She saw Logan's claws out and at the ready.

"What do you see," Rogue asked upon noticing Buffy's eyes.

"A car coming up the driveway," Buffy said. "And Logan is on high alert. His claws are out." Then she saw who they were. "Bobby's family."

Just then they heard a car come down the driveway and Buffy and Rogue ran down the stairs.

"Logan it's Bobby's family," Buffy said as Logan looked at her and his claws retracted into his hand.

A moment later, William Drake stormed over the threshold, followed by his wife, Madeline, and Bobby's younger brother, Ronny.

"Who the hell are you?" William demanded.

Clattering feet from the other rooms diverted Drake's attention before any more angry words could be said, and Bobby led John into the kitchen.

"Dad!" he said brightly. "Mom! You guys are home!"

Bobby's father looked from Bobby to Logan.

"Honey," said Madeline, "aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Bobby, who is this guy?" William demanded of the boy, indicating Logan.

"Professor Logan" was the reply. His dad didn't believe a word.

Madeline wasn't interested in Logan. She was glaring at Buffy and Rogue. Well more at Rogue than Buffy, and especially at the white opera gloves that covered almost the whole of Rogue's arms.

"What are those girls doing wearing my clothes?" she asked. "And—are those Nana's gloves?"

Bobby stammered a reply: "Mom, uh, guys, can I talk to you about something?" He proceeded to tell his parents what he was.

"So, uh, Bobby," Madeline said, utterly lost when Bobby finished, "when did you first know ... that you were a ... um ..."

"A mutant?" John finished for her, flicking his lighter open, then closed, open, then closed, open—

"Could you please stop that?" said Madeline with some asperity.

"You have to understand," William said slowly, "we thought Bobby was going to a school for the gifted."

"He is gifted," Rogue interjected.

"We know that," William conceded. "We just didn't realize that he was—Why the hell didn't you tell us? What were you thinking, Bobby? We're your parents, for God's sake! How could you keep this to yourself, how could you not trust us—how could you lie?"

"Dad." Bobby sounded helpless. "You don't understand!"

"Obviously."

"Dad!"

"You lied, Bobby. Xavier lied. To my face. He kept your secret. What am I supposed to believe about him now, or this precious school of his? Or you? How many other secrets are there?" He turned to Logan. "Just what is it you teach my son, 'Professor'?"

"Art," Logan said sarcastically. "And it's just Logan."

"You show up without a word of warning or explanation. Apparently without even clothes of your own to wear. What's that supposed to mean?"

"We still love you, Bobby," Madeline said. "It's just that the mutant problem is very . . ."

"What mutant problem?" Logan asked.

"... complicated."

Buffy tried to lighten the mood. "You should see what Bobby can do."

Everyone watched as Bobby stretched out his hand to his mother's teacup, ignoring how quickly she snatched her own hand clear, and touched it with a fingertip. Instantly a layer of ice crystals formed around the rim and down the sides. He turned the cup over and the tea within, frozen completely solid, dropped onto the saucer with a quiet clink. "I can do a lot more," he said.

There was a light in William's eyes, a dad's classic and instinctive, 'My boy did that!'

Mom wasn't anywhere near as amused, and she wasn't proud in the slightest. As for Ronny, he got up from the couch and bulled his way out of the room, deliberately giving John a shoulder check as he passed. He made a lot of noise pounding up the stairs, and he shut his door with a slam that resounded through the house.

Madeline put her head in her hands. "Oh, God, this is all my fault."

Before Bobby could even try to make things better, John jumped in to make them worse. "Actually," he said, "they've discovered that males are the ones who carry mutant genes and pass them on to the next generation, so I guess that makes it"—he jutted his thumb toward Bobby's dad—"his fault."

William ignored the comment.

Madeline tried again to be the gracious hostess: "And you two," she said to Rogue and Buffy, "you're all gifted?"

Buffy, Rogue and Bobby shot daggers at John, who returned them as a grin. "Some of us more than others," Rogue replied tightly as Buffy patted her hand comfortingly. "Others who shouldn't ever be allowed out in public."

"What's that?" William said, reacting to a beep.

Logan had the little com unit in his hand. "That's mine," he said. "'Scuse me." And he slipped through the kitchen to the backyard porch, with Madeline's next line to her son to speed him on his way.

"Bobby," she said, "dearest, have you tried . . . not being a mutant?"

Bobby sighed. John laughed out loud just as Buffy's eyes clouded over.

"What's wrong with her?" Madeline asked upon noticing Buffy's eyes.

Rogue turned and looked at Buffy, "What do you see?"

"See?" William asked.

Bobby nodded. "Buffy is cognitive. She can see the future, the past and on rare occasions the present or rather five seconds into the future. You know close enough it might as well be the present."

"Buffy?" Rogue prompted.

"They're coming," Buffy stated. "Someone called them, told them where we are. Two groups of cops. One out front, the other out back."

Logan came in just then. "We have to go," he said without preamble. "Now." The kids took their cue from him and leaped to their feet. Then he saw Buffy's eyes which still had not cleared, "Buffy, do you see them?"

"Yes." Buffy said. "They're coming. One group in front, one group in back. They're just outside now." Her eyes cleared up.

"Follow my lead," Logan told them.

Just as Buffy had said there were two cops waiting on the front porch, flanking the door with guns drawn. They locked on Logan as the primary threat.

Bobby's face tightened with anger. He knew what had brought them here. "Ronny!" he fumed under his breath.

"You," barked the cop to Logan's right, "get down on the ground."

"What's going on here?" Logan inquired calmly.

Bobby, Rogue and John were scared, and rightly so. Buffy out of the four of them was the only one not scared. She was being trained to deal with things that would make these cops wet their pants, still she was hesitant. The cops were human after all.

Buffy and Logan both heard the frantic click, click, click of John's lighter. The cops heard it, too. They didn't know what to make of it, and that made them even more jumpy.

"Put the knives down slowly," the same cop said. "Slowly. Then down on your knees, cross your ankles, and raise your hands in the air. You kids do the same. Right now!"

Rogue saw the glint in Buffy's eyes. "Buffy their human," she said trying to reel her friend back in.

"Hey, bub, this is just a misunderstanding," Logan replied.

The cop screamed louder: "Put down the goddamn blades!"

"I can't," said Logan, and raised his hands to show they were a part of him.

The left-hand cop had fired, straight to the temple. The point-blank impact blew Logan off his feet, twisting him as he fell so that he landed on his face, partially sprawled down the steps.

Rogue screamed and she, Bobby and John all dropped, Bobby tried to shield Rogue's body with his own, yelling as loud as he could for the cops to stop firing. "Don't shoot, don't shoot!"

Buffy raced at the cops with full Slayer speed and she grabbed the cop's gun that had fired the shot before he even knew what was going on. "He can't put them down. They are attached to his skeleton. They are a defense mechanism. You're shooting him won't make him put down what he can't put down." She set the gun down on the ground and backed up next to Logan.

"Easy," his partner yelled. "Everybody take it easy. Get a grip! Okay, kids same as before. Stay cool, we'll get out of this just fine."

"We didn't do anything!" Rogue shrieked at him.

"On your knees, girl!"

Rogue yelled at him some more, partly to purge her own terror, but most of all to keep attention away from Logan and Buffy.

Bobby gave her a hand as they and Buffy did as they were told. John had other ideas. He stood up.

"Don't be stupid, kid," the left-hand cop said. "This is no time to flash attitude. We don't want to hurt you!"

"Hey," John said, "you know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news? I'm the worst one." He popped the lid on his Zippo, but this time, he ignited a flame.

Rogue looked at Buffy and they both knew what was about to happen. John's temper had gone into what Buffy and Rogue had termed Slayer mode. But unlike with Buffy, there was no way to pull John back from what he was about to do.

From the wick of John's lighter grew three distinct streamers of flame, which whirled sinuously around him like the fearsome salamanders of medieval tales. One shot right, the other left, the third burned its way through the door to scorch across the main floor of the house.

The cops on the porch dove desperately for cover as flame roared past, close enough to leave their uniform shirts smoldering. Those inside weren't quite so quick, or so lucky. One was struck head-on, with force enough to hurl him into his companions, who had to scramble to save him as his clothes caught fire.

John turned his focus to the cars. It all happened so fast, the attack was so savage and shocking. While the two main streamers he'd manifested kept the cops occupied, he snaked a pair of much thinner strands along the surface of the lawn and underneath the cars to their tailpipes. This would be fun.

He ignited both gas tanks at once, pitching the cars up into the air and flipping them over like they were sandbox toys. A third car had just then rolled onto the scene, and John grinned as he surrounded it with a cataract of fire. The driver threw the gearshift into reverse, but John melted the tires to the street. The cops tried to bail from the unit, only to reel back inside as he turned the flames around them into a wall so thick and hot they'd be crispy critters before they took a decent step. One of them called frantically for help on the radio.

Logan's eyes fluttered as the shattered remains of the officer's bullet fell from the healing wound.

Some of the other cops tried to save the two who were trapped. John played with them a little, letting them almost break through before generating a flash furnace to force them back.

He never felt Rogue's hand on his shin as she grabbed him from behind. She wasn't holding back, she was trying to control his power. Without any warning or preamble, John's eyes simply rolled up in their sockets, and he dropped to the porch. The lighter skittered from his grasp.

Rogue's mouth twisted with disgust as his psyche rolled over hers like an oily tide. She wanted no part of it, so she called up a burst of flame within her own head to torch the images as they appeared.

At the same time, now that she'd successfully imprinted his power, she held up a hand in a summoning gesture. She was breathing very hard, almost panting, in and out to the same metronomic pattern John established with his lighter. Her visual perceptions skewed far away from normal to embrace the infrared. Her world became defined by the heat it generated; she could actually see the primary states of being on a molecular level, she understood instinctively how to sustain and manipulate fire itself.

The raw passion of it left her breathless, because by playing with this elemental force, she became it as well, tasting an insatiable hunger that made her want to ignite the whole world. It would be so easy—so much energy to torch a tree, so much for a vehicle, so much for a person. To her, they were all becoming mere objects, without any value or purpose other than as fuel. It was a temptation, a glory, she'd never known, nor imagined could even exist.

It was then she understood the primal power at Buffy's command. Much like with John it wanted to be let loose. And in that instance she so hoped Giles tests if she ever did them would prove she was not a Slayer. She did not want that primal power at her command, but she also knew she likely didn't have much of a choice either.

Rogue called the fire home—not merely the streamers that John had initially created but all the conflagrations they'd ignited. On the street, the trapped car whose metal surfaces had been glowing red hot became amazingly cool to the touch. The other cars were likewise smoldering wrecks.

For that instant, Rogue herself burned, shrouded in flames from head to foot, so hot—hotter than a blast furnace—that Buffy and Bobby quickly pushed themselves clear in a frenzied crab scuttle, Bobby dragged John with him, to keep from being blistered. The fire faded at once, without leaving a mark on the girl, although the porch wasn't as fortunate. The planks beneath her feet were deeply charred, as was the roof overhead.

She swayed a little with fatigue, and Buffy leapt at once to her side, cradling her friend.

John stirred, the shock of her imprinting wearing off. As he shook off the effects, he grabbed reflexively for his lighter and looked sour to find his flames all gone as Logan got to his feet.

The cops knew now what they were up against. They were shaken to the bone. As far as they were now concerned, it was their lives or the lives of these . . . monsters. They were ready to shoot and keep shooting until the threat was over.

That's when Jean landed the Blackbird, maybe a minute ahead of schedule.

Ororo announced their arrival with a clap of thunder that shook the very air and a gust of gale-force wind that forced the cops to flee from the scene. Jean made a combat approach, a vertical descent straight down to the street in front of the house.

Between the wild weather and the sleek, dangerous-looking aircraft, the cops didn't know what to think. Maybe the military, come to the rescue?

As soon as the wheels touched down, Ororo was at the boarding ramp and beckoned Logan and the kids inside. Nobody needed to be told twice. Bobby and John went with a rush as Buffy picked up Rogue cradling her in her arms. She took off after Bobby and John. Logan came more slowly than the kids.

A flicker of movement revealed one of the cops from the porch, the one who hadn't fired, who'd tried to keep the situation calm. He looked a mess, uniform scorched and torn, some hair burned off, soot all over his face, but he held his Glock in an unshaking grip, determined to do his duty.

Logan looked at him, held his hands open at his sides to show they were empty, no claws. Then, with a tremble, the cop shifted his gun barrel upward. He nodded and made his way up the ramp.

Jean gave Logan a smile. Then, while he was giving the kids a quick once-over to make sure their harnesses were secure and that Rogue had come through her ordeal okay, Nightcrawler popped up from the row behind. Rogue and John yelped.

"Guten Morgen," Kurt said.

"Guten Abend," Logan corrected. "Who the hell—"

Nightcrawler bowed, with a circus performer's flamboyance. "Kurt Wagner, mein herr. But in the Munich Circus I was billed as 'The Incredible Nightcraw—' "

"Whatever. Storm?" he called.

"Ready to roll, Logan," came back from the flight deck.

"Not yet! We're one short!"

Bobby stood in the hatchway. He hadn't boarded yet; he was looking back at his house, thinking of the life he'd lived there, realizing that perhaps he could never go home again, not to the way it was. He'd never considered being a mutant in those terms, never imagined the consequences of possessing these fantastic powers might cost him his family.

He saw his parents and his brother in the upstairs window and knew their faces would remain to haunt him always. His father, shocked and hurt. His mother, sobbing. He wondered if he could forestall all that by going back. He wondered for the briefest of moments if Buffy had control of her power could she have foreseen this. Could he have made it so things wouldn't have turned out this way? He gave his family a final wave, and closed both ramp and hatch behind him.


	13. Chapter 12: Blackbird

**Chapter 12: Blackbird**

Two-thirds of the way back to the mansion, Bobby wasn't happy with his roommate. John, cheerfully flicking his lighter cap open and shut, open and shut, couldn't care less.

"You think it's funny," Bobby fumed. "Let's go set fire to your house next time!"

"Too late," John said cheerily.

"You almost killed those cops, John," Rogue told him.

"So?" John turned toward Rogue. He spoke with exaggerated patience. "Logan would have"—he gave a pointed look at the man across the aisle—"if he hadn't gotten shot in the head. And what about Buffy, Rogue? She looked ready to go on a rampage."

Buffy sighed. "I do not kill humans."

Jean gave Logan a high sign from the flight deck, and he clambered up the aisle to join her and Ororo. "They'll be all right," she assured him.

"So," Logan said, "any word from the professor? Or Scott?"

"Nothing," Jean told him looking back at Buffy.

"How far are we?" he asked.

"We're coming up on the mansion now. Once Storm whistles up some cover—"

"I've got two signals," Ororo interrupted, "coming in fast."

Accompanying her announcement, a proximity alarm sounded. Warning lights flashed on the main console, and the main display shifted channels to a radar field. Two blips, rising and approaching from behind, identified by the plane's onboard computer as F-16s.

They were armed and trying to paint the Blackbird with their target acquisition systems.

The Blackbird shuddered in wake turbulence as the Falcons shot past to announce their presence, then throttled back to pace the bigger aircraft, taking up flanking positions on either side. Each of the pilots was making a downward gesture, telling them to land at once.

They made the same point over the radio: "Unidentified aircraft, this is Air Force two-one-zero on guard. You are ordered to descend to twenty thousand feet and return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. Failure to comply at once will result in the use of extreme force. Do you acknowledge?"

When there was no reply, the fighter pilot repeated his instructions.

"Somebody's angry," Storm commented.

"I wonder why," was Logan's pointed response, with a glare over his shoulder at John.

"We're marked!" Ororo cried as the Blackbird's systems confirmed the worst. "They're going to fire!" she looked back at the kids, and noticed Buffy's eyes. "Seat belts! Buffy tell us what you see."

She slapped the throttles to their firewalls and pointed the big black aircraft toward the stars.

"They're giving chase," Buffy said. "You are about to break the sound barrier and they will try and keep up."

They felt another minor shudder as the Blackbird broke the sound barrier just as Buffy said. In their wake, the F-16s went immediately to afterburner and rocketed after them.

"Apparently it looks like ones of those rare occasions where I am seeing things in almost real time. So my warnings not doing you much good."

"Keep going though," Jean said. "You might see something we miss and five seconds could make a world of difference."

"Okay. They're launching rockets." Buffy said as the alarms and displays on the main panel revealed two minor blips separating themselves from the pursuing fighters and beginning to close the gap at a significantly greater speed.

"What's the threat?" Logan demanded.

Jean pointed at the display: "Sidewinders. They're heat seekers. We give them minimal profile with our exhaust, we can lose 'em."

"Everybody hang on!" Ororo yelled, and she and Jean together swung the wheel hard over.

The Blackbird peeled off to the left, pitching up and over into a barrel roll that allowed them to reverse direction without needing a wide turn. The missiles, closing on where the plane had been, triggered their own proximity sensors and detonated, creating a minor fireball too far behind the Blackbird to do any damage.

"They're splitting off," Buffy said. "Coming in from either side."

Again just as Buffy said both pursuing fighters split in opposite directions to come in on them from either side.

Ororo jinked them the other direction, turning headlong in the direction of one of the fighters and forcing both of them to maneuver to prevent a collision. "They're not backing off," she said. "And they're not giving me a decent opening to outrun them."

"Don't we have any damn weapons in this heap?" Logan demanded.

Jean shot a glance at Ororo, who released hold of her controls. Jean had the aircraft now.

Storm's eyes clouded over as the air around her became supercharged with electricity, and Jean flicked a line of switches to disengage the systems on her side of the panel. Even so, performance on the main displays began degrading markedly, the screens becoming more and more crowded with static.

Outside clouds were darkening the sky ahead as puffy cumulus crashed together and built themselves into towering series of thunderheads. Lightning announced the storm.

"Brace yourselves," said Buffy with a glance at Bobby and Rogue. "We're going straight into the storm."

The Falcon pilots couldn't know what to make of the freak weather. They didn't care. They followed.

Wisps of cloud began to swirl, faster and faster as Ororo manipulated pressure gradients and temperature to create air effects within these clouds more common to the great plains than the northeast. Great rams of high-pressure cold bludgeoned hot low-pressure air, generating maelstroms of tremendous force that found expression as airborne tornados.

Wind smashed at the hull; one minute they were in clear air, the next the canopy was covered with sheets of rain, the next, completely occluded by ice. The only constant was that visibility sucked and maneuverability was worse.

"We're marked," Jean cried out . . . and Ororo responded by sandwiching the nearer fighter between a pair of tornados.

Buffy watched helplessly as the two planes were torn apart and their pilots sent plummeting towards the earth. She let out a sigh of relief as both pilot's parachutes opened and they descended to a smooth landing. Then she saw it two missiles the second pilot had managed to fire before his plane got torn to shred were on an heading straight for them. Her eyes cleared and she looked at Rogue, "Brace yourself."

Without a word, Jean using a slap to the arm to get Ororo's attention, she handed the controls back to her. They were leaving her storm well behind, although the air, and the ride, remained bumpy. The missiles were too small, too close, too fast for Ororo's power to do any good. Their survival was Jean's to decide.

One small blessing: As Ororo scaled back her power, the radar cleared up. Jean had a clear electronic view of their tormentors. All she had to do now was slide her consciousness down that invisible line connecting the Blackbird to the missiles . . .

Ororo cleaned up the Blackbird's flight profile, exchanging maneuverability for raw speed as the variable-geometry wings folded close to the hull, creating an airfoil ideal for high-mach hypersonic flight. Given a small fraction of a minute, they could outrun the damn missiles, stretching out the pursuit until the missiles ran out of fuel. But the missiles were already going hell for leather, far faster than the planes that launched them, and the time the Blackbird needed to accelerate was time they didn't have.

As the missiles struck the unseen barrier that she threw up in their flight path, Jean's body reacted to an invisible impact and she gritted her teeth, hurling another telekinetic boulder at them. Again and again they plowed through her obstacles, the impacts psychically translating themselves into physical terms so that each one felt like a heavyweight punch. But this succession of hammer blows only made Jean that much more determined to prevail. She wasn't trying to finesse the intercept by manipulating the missiles' flight-control surfaces or even just grabbing hold of them and throwing them away; there was too much risk of losing her telekinetic grip, and no time to recover if she did.

"Jean," Ororo called. "How are you—"

The last shot did the trick, sending the missile straight up so that its proximity fuse, mistaking its fellow missile for the target, detonated. She was aiming for a twofer, a double kill.

And in the back neither John or Bobby felt very well. John had gone through several barf bags and Bobby didn't look like he was handling it much better.

Rogue, was in real trouble. The Blackbird didn't use standard seat belts; all the seats were fitted with four-point military style restraints. Procedure mandated that passengers lock themselves in at takeoff, but she'd been talking with Bobby, who was really rocked by how wrong things had gone back at his house.

In addition, she'd been so upset with John for the stunts he'd pulled during the fight that she never got around to buckling herself in. Once the dogfight started, she found to her increasing dismay that she couldn't.

All the Blackbird's wild and unpredictable moves forced her to spend most of the time just hanging on, to keep from making like a hockey puck against the walls and ceiling. Every time she got hold of a damn buckle, it wouldn't lock into the mechanism. She'd think one was anchored, but then when she tried to close another, the first would pop out. It happened so often—making her so frustrated she was ready to cry—that she believed the plane was doing this to her on purpose.

She knew she was getting upset, so she followed Jean's training. She forced herself to take big, slow, calming breaths. She was still scared but tried not to let that matter so much as, one by one, she gathered the buckles and slugged them into place.

This was going to work. She was going to be okay.

Then the panel beeped an alarm, and the second missile raced free of the debris field, locked and closing.

They had seconds to save themselves.

Jean threw everything she had into its path. She closed her eyes, tasting the harsh gunmetal of blood from her nose. The proximity beeps of the radar were coming closer together as the missile closed the range. She took a final roundhouse swing—and missed.

The missile's course never wavered.

"Oh, God," she breathed.

Inside the hull, it felt as though the Blackbird had just had its back broken by a baseball bat. The big plane bucked downward under the impact of the pressure wave. Shrieking metal matched shrieking voices as shrapnel punched a score of holes in the roof.

Decompression did the rest, blowing out a major section, the plane's own velocity wrenching the piece away. Instantly the cabin was swept by winds far greater than any hurricane. Rogue's harness held for all of a heartbeat, and then, to her absolute horror and disbelief, her buckles disengaged and she was swept screaming up and out the hole, into the sky.

"Marie!" Buffy shouted as everyone saw what happened; but only one of them was able to act on it.

Nightcrawler vanished in a distinctive bamf of imploding air and the faint stench of sulfur.

Rogue didn't know what to do or think. She'd never fallen out of a plane before; this was the kind of thing that only happened in movies. She remembered what she'd seen about skydiving and spread her arms and legs to try to stabilize herself. At the same time, she was laughing hysterically inside, demanding to know what the hell good that would do because she didn't have a parachute and sooner rather than later gravity was going to reintroduce her to the ground, the hard way. She doubted after that happy moment if even Logan or Buffy's healing power would make much difference.

That's when Nightcrawler caught her, indigo skin making him hard to see against the darkening sky that was left over from the storm. He rocketed out of nowhere with a grace and skill that told her he knew all about skydiving and wrapped himself around her, arms, legs, and tail. And teleported.

She didn't know where they went for the split instant they were in transit, and for as long as she planned to live she never wanted to find out. And then they dropped the last couple of feet to the wind-ripped deck of the Blackbird's main cabin. Which, in Rogue's estimation, was not an improvement, because the plane was falling just as out of control as she had been.

Buffy looked at Rogue her eyes doing what her hands could not do at that moment. Making sure her friend was okay.

Ororo yelled their altitude, diminishing rapidly, as she and Jean fought to pull the plane out of a flat spin. The explosion had crippled the flight controls, they had minimal hydraulics, which made the act of turning the wheel or pulling on the yoke or pressing the rudder pedals akin to bench-pressing a fully loaded semitrailer. They had a flameout on one engine, possible shrapnel damage and a firewarning light from the other, which they ignored as they rammed its throttle past the firewall in an attempt to stabilize their descent.

Ororo's eyes went white again as she fought to bring a wind into their path, to use it to check their headlong fall. But for all the passion of her indomitable will, she was still constrained by natural forces. She could generate a wind to cushion their landing, but not in the space they had left.

"You can fly," Jean told her. "Grab the kids, get them clear!"

Storm cleared her harness and shoved herself past Logan, calling to the kids.

Strangely, it was Nightcrawler, holding tight to Rogue, who responded.

"Uh . . . Storm?" He was pointing to the roof.

Buffy followed Nightcrawler's gaze and then nodded. Only one person could do that she knew. She unbuckled herself and made her way over to Nightcrawler and Rogue. "If you don't mind?"

Storm too had followed Nightcrawler's gaze and didn't bother hiding her astonishment as the fabric of the hull came alive before her eyes. Dark threads of metal alloy polymer laced their way across the hull spars as though they were being spun from a loom. The spars themselves that had been twisted and broken politely straightened themselves. The roar of wind through the hull gradually lessened to a whisper, then to silence.

Nightcrawler looked at Buffy and then nodded stepping away from Rogue. Buffy hugged her closely. It was then that everyone saw what Buffy was doing. She was holding Rogue, her skin was touching Rogue's with no adverse effect. They didn't have time to question the two teens over this as around them, the hull righted itself, returning to level flight.

They were a couple of hundred feet in the air, but their velocity had dropped to less than a hundred knots. With each ten feet or so they lost another ten knots until, ten feet off the ground, they stopped.

They sat there, floating just above the ground, for maybe a minute before anyone had the presence of mind to mention the landing gear. A quiet whine and a dull thunk told them what the status lights confirmed: gear down and locked.

The next sensation was an equally understated thump that told them they were once more on the ground.

Then Bobby and John let out a cheer. Rogue and Buffy simply looked at each other smiling.

On the flight deck, the first flush of relief had been cast aside by the sight of what was waiting for them. They had descended into a forest clearing not much bigger than the Blackbird itself. On the edge of the clearing, parked under the sheltering evergreens, was a black limousine, not the sort of wheels normally used for a camping trip. But then, the couple using it wasn't the sort you'd expect to find out here roughing it, either.

Mystique gave Jean and Logan a wave from where they stood midway between the nose of the Blackbird and their car.

Magneto held out his hand in welcome. "If I set you down gently," he offered in a pleasantly companionable voice, "will you hear me out?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

It was a good place to hide, even without the stealth netting that Ororo and Logan quickly spread across the hull. Magneto had set the Blackbird down hard against a nice-sized escarpment, part of a line of large hills—baby mountains, really—that formed a valley with a mainly north-south orientation.

The cliff formed a wall at their back. Every other direction, they saw only trees. Old-growth forest, timber that had never been cut, thick stands of fir that towered thirty meters and more in height. This was rugged country that made no concession to modern man or the amenities of modern society, as the kids learned when they decided to go exploring and almost immediately got themselves lost.

The four teens and Nightcrawler watched as Jean, Logan, Ororo, Magneto and Mystique walked away to talk in private.

After gathering some wood for a fire Bobby made repeated attempts to use John's lighter to torch the kindling, but was only getting more and more frustrated. He tried paper, he tried twigs, he tried dry leaves, but nothing would catch.

"You could help, you know," Rogue snapped to John. There was no expression on the boy's face as he looked up at her. His eyes were cold and unreadable.

"Forget him," Buffy said, but only Rogue heard her. And for a moment Rogue could have sworn Buffy's lips had not even moved when she spoke.

Bobby followed a couple of sparks as they landed on a leaf, pursing his lips and giving them a gentle puff of air to excite them into a true flame as they burned through the leaf and left a glowing boundary that quickly expanded outward in their wake. The more Bobby breathed, the brighter the embers glowed, until he saw the ghost of a flame. Stifling a cheer, he grabbed for some more tinder to feed the baby fire.

With a speed that surprised Rogue, she grabbed Bobby by the scruff of the neck and yanked him clear as the tiny flicker of flame exploded into a pillar of raw fire, that reared up better than ten meters before fading to a happy little campfire.

John held out his hand, gesturing for the borrowed lighter. Bobby dropped the lighter into his open palm. After the fire came dinner. Nothing fancy, nothing that needed cooking. The campfire was mainly for psychological comfort, to give the scene an air of companionability that was lacking on the faces of most everyone present.

"Can you two hear anything?" Bobby asked Rogue and Buffy.

Rogue looked briefly at Buffy she could hear the adults, yes. And like with the speed she had just demonstrated it was a surprise to her. She was sure both were a sign that she was indeed a Slayer now. A sign she did not want. "Excuse me?" she asked him back, with a look that said she thought he was nuts.

"I dunno, I thought, y'know, since you imprinted Wolverine—" Bobby said.

"His name's Logan," Buffy retorted in a fierce whisper.

"I can't, okay?" Rogue responded to Bobby.

"Okay," he said hurriedly in a placating tone. "Sorry I asked."

John, busy staring at their campfire, snorted.

"I beg your pardon," said Nightcrawler, "but I can get a closer look."

Bobby and Rogue nodded in tandem as he vanished, leaving behind a faint bamf of imploding air and his distinctive scent of smoke and brimstone.

"Nice," Bobby said in admiration.

John waved his hand in front of his face. "Oh, yeah. Mutant teleport farts. Real nice."

They hadn't noticed that while their attention had been on Nightcrawler that Buffy had disappeared into the night as she skirted the edge of the other campfire to get a little bit closer. She didn't trust Magneto after what he had done to her and Rogue.

Ororo was speaking to Magneto with an almost prosecutorial manner as Buffy approached: "How would Stryker know what Cerebro is—or where to find it?"

Magneto didn't answer right away. "I told him," he said at last. "I helped design the one Charles built in the mansion, remember? Stryker has undeniable methods of ... persuasion. Effective against me. Effective even against a mutant as strong as Charles. Believe this, if Stryker has Charles, he will find a way to break him. And suborn him to his purposes. If he weren't absolutely certain of that fact, he wouldn't have acted."

"Who the hell is this Stryker?" Jean asked.

"He's a military scientist with considerable ties to the clandestine intelligence community. He has spent his professional life looking for a solution to what he considers the mutant problem. But if you require a more . . . intimate perspective, why don't you ask the Wolverine?"

"His name is Logan," Jean said.

"Of course it is," Magneto said. "But what's in a name? William Stryker is the only other man I know who can manipulate adamantium. The metal laced through the Wolverine's bones, it bears his signature. Are you sure you don't remember—Logan?" In return, he got a blank look. "What a pity."

"The professor—"

"The professor trusted you were smart enough to discover this on your own. He gives you more credit than I do."

"So Charley knew," Logan said.

"Charles has always known."

"Please understand," Ororo spoke calmly from the fireside, "if we don't take this all purely on good faith. You went to some trouble to save us—for which we're all quite appropriately grateful. The question is, why? What do you want, Magneto? Why do you need us?"

"Mystique discovered plans of a base where Stryker's had his operations for decades. Unfortunately," he shrugged, "we don't know where it is.

"However, I suspect one of you might."

"The professor already tried," said Logan.

Magneto sighed. "Once again, you think it's all about you."

Then his eyes lifted to the branches above.

Ororo followed Magneto's gaze and smiled at Nightcrawler and waved for her to join them. He came down as a circus acrobat, swinging lithely from branch to branch, ending with a triple somersault that landed him right where Ororo had indicated. "I didn't mean to snoop," he apologized.

Ororo gave him a squeeze that told him it was all right as Jean said, "Relax. You can come out too, Buffy."

Jean rose to her feet, with a smooth grace that almost matched Mystique, and took position in front of Nightcrawler as Buffy joined her.

"Stryker's at Alkali Lake," Jean told the others after probing Nightcrawler's mind.

"I've been there," Logan said. "That's where Charley sent me. Nothing's left."

"There's nothing left on the surface, Logan. The base is underground."

They talked a while longer, with Magneto leading the debriefing, delicately mining Jean's memory for every possible nugget of information before turning his attention to Logan.

Buffy watched as moments later Jean broke from the campfire and took refuge in the Blackbird followed shortly by Logan. Buffy got up and turned and followed them both.

"That isn't what I meant," Buffy heard Logan say as she approached the Blackbird.

"I know what you meant, Logan. This is how I choose to answer. Okay?"

"Then answer me, Jean." Buffy said startling the both of them. "Out of everyone here I'm the one person that knows how you feel. For I feel the same for Scotty."

"I'm worried," she confessed. "About the professor. About . . . Scott."

"I know," Buffy and Logan said.

Buffy stepped under the shadow of the aircraft and reached out her arm to her cousin's girlfriend. At her touch, Jean folded against Buffy holding the young woman as Buffy held her.

"I'm worried about you," Logan said from beside them softly. "That was some display of power up there."

Jean snorted dismissively. "It obviously wasn't enough."

Buffy let out a sigh and nodded. She knew how Jean felt.

"I love him," Jean said, mostly to herself.

"I know." Buffy said. "And if it means anything. I give you my blessings."

Jean looked at Buffy and then smiled. Out of everyone she had thought Buffy would have been the last one to approve of her and Scott's relationship. She had thought Buffy would have fought her tooth and nail before she was satisfied that Jean was right for Scott. "I want to show you something, Buffy."

Buffy nodded, "Go ahead."

Jean smiled and then Buffy saw…_ Jean playing in a yard, a fragment of her thoughts providing the date and setting: her parents' home at Bard College, an hour upstate from Xavier's, where her dad taught. Jean was eight and hanging with her best friend, Annie Malcolm. Annie tossed a Frisbee for her dog, but a wayward puff of breeze hooked the plastic saucer off over the fence. The dog bolted through the gate, Annie chasing after, heedless of the danger posed by this stretch of River Road._

_Jean saw what Annie hadn't, a car speeding around the blind curve. There wasn't even a screech of brakes, before or after, just a sickening thud and the sound of tires skidding on asphalt as the driver struggled to regain control before he sped away._

_She found Annie against the stone wall by the gate, her body folded at impossible angles, blood—so much blood, too much blood—splashed everywhere. Jean wanted to scream, to shriek, to howl, but some part of her that refused to relinquish control forced her lips to form proper words, forced her lungs to provide air for sufficient volume to make this a proper shout as she called for her mother._

_Annie couldn't speak, the only thing moving about her was her chest, desperately striving—broken as it was—to draw another breath._

_As well there were her eyes, bright with confusion as her brain struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Jean couldn't stop her own tears. They poured silently from her eyes as she knelt beside Annie and wrapped her arms around her friend._

_She found herself in a vast space of light, filled with sparkling clusters of energy. She touched the closest and was filled with an awareness of a specific time and place, together with a torrent of associated emotions, and in a sudden burst of insight realized that each of these clusters represented one of Annie's memories. With a directness only a child can muster, she concluded at once that she was inside Annie's head._

_But her delight at this new adventure was short-lived. Even as she watched, she became aware that the brilliance of the individual clusters was fading, along with their background radiance, which suffused this apparently infinite space. It was like looking at the daylight sky, only in this case it was chockablock with stars of every conceivable color and magnitude, and realizing the gradually encroaching presence of night._

_To her horror, Jean saw that the clusters closest to the darkness exploded apart in a fireworks shower of sparkles, and just like fireworks, these flaring embers vanished before they reached what she thought of as the ground. But unlike sunset, where the night came from a single horizon, this darkness closed on her from every side, not simply along a horizontal plane but lowering from above and rising from below. She tried to catch hold of the memory clusters, to carry them to some place of safety, but couldn't find one. With each that vanished, she found that less and less of a cohesive sense of Annie herself remained._

_She called her friend's name, but the word echoed through a space where it had no more meaning. Annie was going, and there was no way Jean could call her back._

_Jean embraced the final cluster, her own heart so full of grief she thought it would explode while her noncorporeal cheeks burned with tears. She thought if she could push her own strength, the essence of her own will and soul, into this last fleeting scrap of her friend, she'd still be able to save her._

_The last of the light went out. All around her, save this last scrap of Annie's self, was darkness._

_But paradoxically, as this final night fell, the cluster that Jean embraced blazed more brightly than before, more brightly than any radiance Jean had ever seen, so bright it put the sun to shame. She beheld colors she had no name for, that reached out to all her senses, manifesting themselves as tastes and scents and textures. It was a warm and welcoming light, pure in a way that poets strive for and only lovers attain, and that, rarely._

_The last cluster, the last scraps of Annie, broke apart in Jean's grasp and slipped through her fingers, rushing away into the core of this new light. There was such peace and such beauty that Jean's first impulse was to follow so that her friend would not face this new place by herself._

_That would be so easy. No more pain, no more fear. She could avoid the crushing weight of grief that awaited her the moment she opened her eyes for real, the memory of her friend, the awareness of the bloody rag doll she'd become._

_Someone was yelling, in a voice raw with horror and with fear, and Jean was a little bit shocked to realize that she wasn't simply hearing the words her mother spoke as she cradle-crushed Jean in her own arms as Jean had done Annie, as heedlessly as her daughter had been of the blood that soaked them both. She could feel her mother's emotions as well, and her thoughts, relief that it was Annie lying there and not Jean, shame at that acknowledgment, fury that either girl had been so careless, a terrible and welling rage at the driver for not stopping._

_It's okay, Mommy, she remembered saying, sure for years afterward that she'd spoken aloud, which was why she was so startled when her mother fell backward in stark and visible shock. There's no need to cry, I'm okay. Only much later did the understanding come that she hadn't said a word with her voice but had spoken directly, mind to mind._

_And much later after that, the comprehension that she'd been quite wrong in what she'd told her mom: Nothing for Jean after that fateful moment when her psi catalyzed into being, years before it was supposed to, would ever be truly "okay" again._

"It's okay, Jean," Buffy said softly, brushing tears from Jean's cheek. "There's no need to cry. You're okay." Jean nodded and sighed. "We are similar in different ways."

"Yes," Jean said, remembering that Scott had told her of his sister Celia. How Buffy and Celia had been close. And how hard Buffy had taken Celia's death. "Yes we've both lost someone that was close to us." She kissed Buffy on the cheeks.

Logan looked at the two and nodded. He didn't need to know what Buffy had seen to know that nothing further needed to be said. He knew that her love for Scott was just as strong as maybe her love for him and could not be denied. Logan turned and walked back to the campfire. Leaving Jean and Buffy alone to comfort each other.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I decided to post this chapter a little early so as to update you all on a couple things.

I have been trying to figure out how how to add BTVS to the story. I knew it would be after X3. The problem I had was the Master, one scenario had the Harvest happening at the beginning of season two instead of season one. Another scenario had it where Buffy and Rogue arrive in Sunnydale at the beginning of season two and it be the Wishverse, where the Master had already risen. Both had their own headaches.

The first because canon showed that the Harvest was in season one and came about only once every what was it hundred years or was it longer? So either I change canon majorly (while that is the goal to at least some degree. Somethings still have to happen as the dates of them happening don't allow them to be moved) or ...

The Wishverse again had its problems, namely the Mayor. From what I understand, it was established that the Mayor and the Master were sworn enemies. A reviewer pointed out that the Wishverse was created by Anya as she twisted reality. In the alternate reality there may not have been a Mayor. Because the Mayor being an enemy of the Master likely would have sent someone to kill him the moment he arose.

What I decided was this. X3 is being moved back four months. It will happen towards November or December of 1996 instead of in April 1997 (I was following the movie timeline that said each movie was about a half year after the previous one). That way Buffy and Rogue will arrive in Sunnydale in January 1997.

Now the ending of this story, Days of Future's Past will be a combination of the movie and the comic. This will solve how far to send Buffy back. Instead of sending her back to the 1970's as in the movie. She will be sent back to 1996 shortly after X1. It's within her own lifetime this way instead of trying to find a way to leap her out of it. And this way also will allow me to combine movie elements with those of the comic.


	14. Chapter 13: Mystique

**Chapter 13: Mystique**

Ororo and Jean worked straight through the night, and by morning the Blackbird was ready to go. As Logan finished zipping his uniform closed, he caught Buffy, Rogue and Bobby eyeing him discreetly.

Nightcrawler hung batlike from a branch above, as though he were the kids' very own swashbuckler gargoyle saint.

Only John remained awake the whole night, sitting opposite Buffy, Bobby and Rogue, staring at them across the campfire, continually flicking his lighter open and closed, open and closed.

The kids weren't interested in their classmate, though, which Logan knew was part of John's problem. It was the uniforms they wanted.

"Where're ours?" Bobby demanded.

Logan responded with a gruff snort that was echoed from up front by Jean.

"On order," he told them. "Should arrive in a few years."

Buffy glared at Jean, "Yeah well, Scott's my family Jean. I'm going whether you like it or not."

Jean let out a sigh and thought about it for a moment. Out of all of them Buffy could be useful. Plus Buffy was right, Scott was her family and she would not stay behind if it meant helping Scott. Still Jean did not want to see Buffy hurt at the expense of saving Scott. She could not give her consent.

Logan supervised the breakdown of the campsite, mainly to keep tabs on Magneto and Mystique. Magneto boarded the plane as if he owned it, but Mystique paused just a moment in passing and flashed Logan a secret little smile. As Logan closed the hatch, she made sure he caught her flashing the same smile at Jean, most likely to make him wonder if she'd pulled the same trick with her. And, of course, to imply that Jean had fallen for the masquerade.

Even as their allies, Mystique and Magneto were always trying to play the X-Men, to find the edge that would give them a tactical advantage. You could never let down your guard with them, on any level, because every encounter had to be some kind of challenge—and they always had to win.

That's what Rogue discovered right after takeoff, as she made her way back to her seat from the bathroom. Magneto was sitting across from John Allardyce, and he smiled at her as she passed. It was a genial smile, the kind you'd expect from family.

"Rogue," he said, by way of greeting, but when she didn't respond, when she tried totally to ignore him, he continued without missing a beat, "we love what you've done with your hair."

Buffy glared at Magneto with a glint in her eye that Rogue noticed and smirked. "I'd be careful if I were you," Rogue said to Magneto. "You don't want to piss off the Slayer."

Magneto looked at Rogue and followed her gaze to Buffy. He noted the glint in Buffy's eyes and recognized it instantly. He had seen that same glint in Sabertooth's eyes. It was the glint of something predatory and primal. A beast waiting to be let loose. He pitied the person that found themselves pitted against her.

John sounded almost bored as he noted, "They say you're the bad guy."

That amused Magneto, who kept his gaze on Buffy as he asked. "Is that what they say?"

John started flicking his lighter, the reassuring click going almost unheard against the sound of the Blackbird's swift passage through the morning sky. "That's a dorky-looking helmet," he said. "What's it for?"

"This helmet," Magneto informed him quietly, "is the only thing that's going to protect me from the real bad guys." He snapped his fingers, and the lighter flew from John's hands to his. With a practiced flip, Magneto ignited a flame. "What's your name?" he asked.

"John."

"What's your name, John?" he asked again. John almost made the mistake of thinking the old git was deaf or senile, or stupid, asking the same question twice, until a flash of intuition told him it was some kind of test.

John reached across the aisle, extending the tip of his forefinger to touch the small flame and lift it from its cradle. "Pyro," he said, absently rolling the flame between his fingers like a coin.

"That's quite a talent you have, Pyro," Magneto said.

"I can only manipulate the fire," he confessed. "I can't make it." He closed his hand around the flame, and it was gone.

"You are a god among insects," Magneto said. "Don't let anyone tell you different."

With that, he opened his own hand and used his magnetic power to float the lighter back to its owner.

John didn't flick the cap anymore, he just held the lighter and stared at his blurred reflection in the stainless-steel surface.

Rogue reached across to Buffy and touched her friend's hand comfortingly. "He will be fine."

Buffy nodded. "I know."

Sometime later the Blackbird set down within a few miles of their destination, in a patch of snowy woods.

They'd come in low and slow, taking the notion of nap-of-the-Earth flying to its extremes as they skimmed treetops when they had to and dropped beneath their branches when they could. Helicopter pilots would have thought twice about some of the maneuvers they employed. Jean spent most of their approach with her teeth gritted with determination—and her fair share of delight—because they were in violation of so many fundamental flight safety protocols that the computers refused to handle the approach. She was forced to fly the plane manually. At the same time, she'd cast her telepathy ahead of them, much like her own personal form of radar, to prevent them from stumbling over some stray sentry or other.

Once they were down, the stealth netting was once again deployed to cover the plane, to hide them from both visual and electronic detection. Internal systems were kept to a minimum to guard against any stray emissions. Given the terrain, the likelihood of them being spotted was minimal, but recent experience had inspired them all to be prudent.

Aboard, they integrated the data stolen from Stryker's offices by Mystique with the information Logan had brought back from his visit to construct a three-dimensional map of the installation, then projected it as a hologram for all to see.

The X-Men turned some of the government's technology to their own purposes by tapping into one of the same keyhole surveillance satellites that had spied on the mansion and downloading current pictures of Alkali Lake. Presumably, when the complex had been abandoned, the emergency spillway had been intended to bleed off the excess capacity of the lake behind the dam. However, over time, it had become blocked by an accretion of broken timber and boulders from a succession of rock falls. Water hadn't flowed down that trench in a long time, and as a consequence, Alkali Lake itself had risen to dangerous levels.

"Surface scans are cold," Ororo reported. "No electronics emissions, no power, no heat signatures. As far as the keyhole is concerned, this place is dead. Apparently for years."

"We're shielded," Jean pointed out.

Ororo shrugged, tapped the control keypad, and the scene before them changed, presenting a different perspective of the base.

"The first image was a topographic representation of the area. This one"—she indicated various points on the display—"shows the density changes in the terrain. The lighter the coloration, the heavier the repetitive activity." To the naked eye, the right-hand spillway, the power trench, was covered with virgin snow. Under the enhanced imagery of the spy satellite, however, a vastly different picture emerged. The trench was covered with literally hundreds of colored lines, running the length of the spillway and up a ramp to the single road that terminated at the Alkali base. It didn't need a glance at the legend for everyone to realize that this was extraordinarily heavy activity, not simply in terms of raw numbers of vehicles but of their weight as well.

"Somebody's been very busy," murmured Buffy.

"And it's fresh," Storm echoed.

"That's the entrance," Logan told them. When both Ororo and Jean looked at him in curiosity, he shook his head. "I remember, okay? Sue me."

Instead, they chuckled along with him.

Once more, Ororo switched perspectives and focused on the spillway. Below the dam, the trench was displayed in varying shades of blue, whereas the surrounding landscape appeared in those of white. "The legend tells us the depth of snow and ice that cover the ground," she said. "There's been recent water activity."

Jean sounded worried as she leaned close to the image. "If we go in there, Stryker could flood the spillway."

Ororo looked to Nightcrawler. "Kurt, could you teleport inside?"

He shook his head. "I have to be able to see where I'm going. Otherwise, I might materialize inside a wall."

Logan stretched, cracking his joints in sequence. "I'll go," he said as casually as anyone else might announce they were going out for a carton of milk. "I have a hunch Billy will want me alive."

At last Magneto strolled into the cone of light thrown out by Ororo's holograms. "Logan," he said with so natural an air of command that all present automatically gave him their full attention, "whoever goes inside that dam needs to be able to operate the spillway mechanism and neutralize any other defenses. What do you intend to do, even if you knew what to look for and where to find it? Scratch the box with your claws?"

Logan glared defiant fury and growled, "I'll take my chances."

"But I," Magneto told him in a tone that brooked no argument, "won't."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Logan didn't try to hide as he made his approach to the base. He walked up to the ruined and broken gates and followed the ramp down to the base of the spillway and headed for the mouth of the tunnel he'd seen on Ororo's hologram.

"Stryker," he called at the huge entrance to one of the tunnels. "Stryker, it's me, Wolverine!"

Ten meters ahead of Logan, a section of the tunnel wall suddenly opened and three troopers broke into view, leveling two HK MP5s with laser sights and a Smith &amp; Wesson automatic assault shotgun with the big thirty-round box. He smiled.

"Don't move," yelled one of the troopers. "Stand where you are, hands in the air!"

To their surprise—and disappointment—he did as he was told.

The troopers weren't gentle with him. He collected a share of surreptitious punches and kicks as his hands were shackled together with his knuckles pressed up tight to both sides of his neck.

Waiting on the dock inside were Stryker, Yuriko, and Lyman, whose hand rested on the butt of his holstered Beretta.

Stryker grinned broadly as he approached Logan, but with each stride his expression changed, triumph gradually giving way to confusion. His eyes narrowed as he began to examine Logan more and more intently. He nodded, then asked, "Who do you think you're looking at?"

The troopers had no idea what he meant. The answer was obvious to them.

"Sir?" asked Lyman.

Stryker shook his head. "The one thing I know better than anyone else ... is my own work."

He turned his back and said, "Shoot it."

By rights, the troopers should have opened fire—but their buddies were in the kill zone! Logan's escort started to respond, backing up to give themselves a better shot. In each case, though, there was a moment's hesitation, born of surprise, as the soldiers processed the unexpected order.

By the time they reacted, Logan was way ahead of them. Before their disbelieving eyes, the his features blurred like watercolors in the rain. He grew taller, slimmer, changed color, changed gender. With blinding speed, the prisoner—a woman—Mystique—lashed out to either side, kick to the chest, kick to the head, to deal with the flanking guards. Hands slipped free of shackles configured to wrists twice their size, and while she was still in midair from the second kick, she hurled the cuffs into the face of the guard behind her with force enough to turn his features bloody and smash him to the ground. As he fell, his finger spasmed on the trigger of his automatic shotgun, spraying the ceiling with round after round of magnum buckshot. His shells hit some lights as he fell, and apparently some power cables, too, because the remaining lights started flickering like strobes.

Mystique was far faster than the troopers expected, and incredibly agile—the gunners couldn't keep up with her. With Stryker in the room, they dared not open indiscriminate fire. She knew that, she used it, landing in a spider crouch before leaping for the dock. Take him prisoner, the whole game changes. Kill him, it might even be over.

She never even came close. Yuriko intercepted her in midair with a speed and agility to match, and a strength that left Mystique breathless. She caught Mystique by the arm, twisted, and the moment her feet touched the floor she hurled the blue-skinned invader toward one of the troopers.

Mystique heard yelling behind her, Stryker ordering everyone present to start shooting. The trooper realizing his own danger, abandoned his post and dove frantically for cover. Yuriko's intention had been to bounce Mystique off the vehicle hard enough to leave her stunned. Even if it was just for a moment, that would be enough to give the others a target.

But just as Mystique had underestimated Yuriko, so, too, had Stryker's bodyguard made the same mistake.

Mystique pivoted in midflight so that she landed on her feet, touching down just long enough to use the hood of the Humvee as a launch point to hurl herself back onto the dock. Before a single trigger could be pulled, she disappeared down the adjoining tunnel.

Throughout the complex, alarms sounded; the halls and tunnels resounded with running feet and shouted commands as Stryker's men rushed to their stations. The airwaves filled with queries and orders, everyone demanding a fix on the intruder's position.

In the control room, Wilkins was trying his best to comply, using the computer to handle the search through one set of monitors while he controlled the second set manually along the tunnel Mystique had used to escape from the loading bay.

He caught sight of a familiar—and now very welcome—figure coming down the corridor and spun his chair around to face Stryker as the commander entered with an escort.

"Sir," Wilkins asked anxiously, "what's happening?"

Stryker glared hawklike at the monitors. "We have a metamorph loose," he said with a growl of barely suppressed rage. "She could be anybody."

"Anybody?" Wilkins found that hard to accept. And then his eyes widened as a second Stryker appeared on screen, accompanied by Lyman and Yuriko and a trio of troopers.

The Stryker standing beside him elbowed his escort in the belly. A second shot—a palm thrust to the face—put him down hard even as Stryker wrenched his MP5 off his shoulder. Wilkins was just starting to react, rising from his chair, grabbing for his sidearm, when the butt of the submachine gun snapped toward him at the full extension of "Stryker's" arm, connecting like a baseball bat with force enough to upend the chair. Like the guard, Wilkins was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Approaching the control room from outside, the real William Stryker watched in futility as his double blew him a kiss. Then the doors slammed shut in his face.

Inside, Mystique reverted to her baseline physiognomy and took a seat at the main console. Above her on the wall display were images of the captured children from Xavier's.

She paused a moment, looking at them one by one, as if to imprint their faces on her memory. That done, all business once more, she donned a communications headset and tapped a set of commands into the keyboard. The children vanished from view, replaced by a three-dimensional schematic of the base.

Then she made a call.

Ever since she'd left the Blackbird, all the others had heard over her com channel was a carrier wave of static, telling them she was off-line. Ever since she'd left, Logan had paced the length of the aisle, back and forth like a caged tiger. No one said a word to him, no one got in his way. He was convinced from the start this was a mistake, and each additional minute of silence made him that much more certain.

Until Mystique's cheery voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm in," she reported.

Magneto smiled proudly, and even Logan had to admit he had reason.

"She's good," he conceded.

"You have no idea," Magneto replied.

While the three X-Men finished their preparations, John stood up.

"Let us help," he said. Behind him, Buffy, Bobby and Rogue nodded assent.

Ororo put a stop to that notion.

"You're not helping with anything," she told them.

Buffy stepped up beside Rogue. "You could use me…"

Ororo looked to Buffy and nodded, they could use her cognitive abilities. But could she live with herself if she had to tell Scott his cousin had been killed. "Buffy."

It was then that Rogue spoke up, "Storm, do you know what a Slayer is?"

Ororo's eyes went wide. Her father had been a member of the Watcher's Council. And before she had come into her powers she had been in training to be a Watcher herself. "Yes."

"I am the Slayer," Buffy said. "Giles, is my Watcher."

Ororo nodded. "Alright Buffy you can go. But remember Buffy, a Slayer does not kill humans."

"They won't hesitate to kill her," Magneto said.

"I am aware," Ororo said. "Which is why I suggest Buffy you let them make the first move. That way if you are forced to act it is in self-defense."

John started to protest but said nothing as Ororo held up her hand.

"If something . . . happens to us," she continued, speaking to Bobby, Rogue and John, "activate the escape-and-evade flight sequence that's programmed into the autopilot, just the way we briefed you. Don't touch any of the controls, on the ground or in the air. The Blackbird will take care of you just fine. The autopilot will fly you home."

"Then what?" Bobby demanded. He didn't hide his thoughts. "Like any of us have a home to go to anymore. Or a school!"

"You've all got superpowers," Logan told him. "Figure it out."

Buffy turned to Bobby. "I expect you to look after Rogue for me," she said.

Bobby looked to Buffy and nodded. "I will." In that instance Bobby understood something about Rogue and Buffy's friendship that even the two girls were unaware of.


	15. Chapter 13 Half: Rescue?

**Chapter 13.5: Rescue?**

Inside, Mystique locked out all the secondary command nodes. For what it was worth, the computers and systems controlling the physical plant of the base were hers to control. There were entire sections of the complex she couldn't access though.

Fortunately, that didn't apply to the external doors. She called up the loading bay on the menu and pressed the appropriate button. Obligingly, the monitor flashed the legend SPILLWAY DOOR OPEN.

There were still a handful of troops in the loading bay, and they reacted with surprise as the double doors separated and slid apart. Seeing who was standing on the other side, they went for their weapons. Mystique, watching on the monitor, shook her head: They had a lot more courage than brains.

Any one of the intruders could have dealt with the situation. Between Buffy, Logan, Jean, Ororo, Nightcrawler, and Magneto, the troopers didn't have a chance. Not one got more than a step, did more than begin to move, before he was rendered unconscious.

As Mystique watched, Jean tossed her prisoners against the wall. She didn't do it so very hard, they couldn't have been much hurt, but from the way they collapsed to the floor Mystique assumed she'd used her mental powers to render them unconscious.

She reentered the room to find Magneto staring at the console.

"Eric," she said to greet him as she joined him by his side.

The look he gave her in return told her how glad he was to see her alive and unharmed.

"Have you found it?"

She called up the power grid on the main display.

"The hydroelectric net is still functional and has been reestablished by Stryker, with a large portion of it being diverted"—she pointed to one of the sectors of the complex, an area where she had no video capability—"to this chamber. It's new construction."

"My fault, I'm afraid," Magneto conceded as the X-Men joined them. "Can you shut it down from here?" he asked Mystique.

"No."

"Come," Magneto said to Mystique. "We have little time."

Jean blocked him. "Not without us."

Mystique tapped the keyboard, and the kidnapped students appeared once more on their respective monitors.

"My God," Ororo exclaimed, "the children! Kurt?" She didn't need to ask any more than that; he knew what she wanted, and he answered with a nod.

"Will you be all right?" Ororo asked Jean, who was staring straight at Mystique. Jean knew exactly what was happening here, that Magneto had a private agenda, that Mystique had acted to divide the X-Men's forces and limit their ability to forestall his plan, whatever it was.

"Yeah," she told her best friend. "I'll be fine." Because she had Buffy and Logan as backup. "Logan? Buffy?"

"I'm with you Jean," Buffy said.

There was no answer from Logan.

"Where's Logan?" Ororo demanded when a look around the room and the hallway outside revealed no sign of him.

Jean had to confess to herself she wasn't surprised, but there was disappointment in her voice as she replied, "He's gone. We'll have to manage without him."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Wait," Jean told her companions, holding out her hand to bring them to a stop. She, Buffy, Magneto, and Mystique were deep inside the complex, a section that had been hollowed out of the rock right beneath the dam, which accounted for the dank air and never-ending seepage down the seams in the walls. She shut her eyes and concentrated a moment.

"I feel something," she said. And then brightened with a smile. "I think it's—Scott!"

"Where?" Buffy asked.

Buffy's question was answered with fire, a beam of glittering scarlet that erupted out of the darkness ahead to shatter a chunk of wall between Buffy, Jean and the others with force enough to scatter shards of stone like shrapnel. As she dived clear of the beam's path, Jean threw a telekinetic cloak over her companions, to deflect the brunt of the debris clear of them, trusting the body armor components of her own uniform to protect her.

"My dear," Magneto call from behind, "this is the kind of lovers' quarrel we cannot afford right now."

"Go!" Buffy and Jean said.

"We'll take care of him." Jean said.

Buffy and Jean had sight of him now. His face showed no expression, no reaction whatsoever to the sound of their voices calling his name. Neither of them needed to see the circular scar on his neck to know that what had been done to Nightcrawler and to Magneto had now been done to Scott. Until the drug wore off, or she and Buffy somehow broke its hold on him, he would keep fighting, without remorse or mercy.

Magneto and Mystique started to back away, and their movement caused Scott to fire again. This time Jean was ready, deflecting the optic blast to one side so that it gouged a shallow trench along the far wall. At the same time, she gestured with her own hand, radiating her telekinesis outward to slap him invisibly in the chest, hard enough to throw him off his feet.

Jean and Buffy started running toward him. Jean pushed him up and back through the air, increasing his speed as she and Buffy did their own. Scott struggled—harder and with a lot more purpose than the soldiers earlier—to break Jean's hold on him. Whatever control Stryker established allowed him to access all his victims' skills and training.

And then something occurred to Buffy, "Jean. I need a link to Scott."

"His mind is a void." Jean said. "Till the drug wears off."

The corridor ended in a wall. Jean slammed him into it as hard as she could. Trouble was, he was wearing his uniform, and it protected him from the impact same as it had her from the shrapnel.

He fired again, forcing Jean and Buffy to duck, and he hit a Humvee parked in an alcove, flipping the four-ton vehicle over onto the one parked next to it. As Jean and Buffy scrambled up, Jean lost her hold on him, and Scott flipped himself over the balcony railing.

"Jean," Buffy said. "Celia."

Then Jean understood what Buffy intended. Like Jean had shown Anne to Buffy. Buffy intended to show Celia to Scott. She stepped back from the railing and hunkered down to reduce her target profile while she considered her next move. She still had a sense of Scott's thoughts, enough to know he was unhurt and mobile, but she couldn't pinpoint his position. "Brace yourself, Buffy."

The next thing Buffy knew she was in a dark room of infinite size. "Scotty! It's Squirt."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

On the Blackbird; Bobby, Rogue and John were scared. They were bored. They were angry—at being left behind, at hearing no word, at not knowing when some mook of Stryker's was going to find them. The grown-ups had promised to keep them in the loop, but all they heard from the radio was static.

Rogue herself was worried for her best friend, for Buffy.

John decided he'd had enough.

"That's it," he announced, and pressed the switch that extended the main ramp.

"Where d'you think you're going, John?" Bobby challenged.

"Where d'you think, moron? I'm tired of this kid's table shit. Especially when Buffy got to go and we didn't."

Bobby started to his feet: "You'll freeze," he said, "before you make it to the spillway."

"I don't think so," John retorted.

"John, they told us to stay here," Rogue protested.

For a moment the two boys glared, ready to take out their tensions and frustrations on each other. Rogue wondered if Bobby really would use his ice power to stop John, and how hard John would use his flames to fight back.

"John!" she called, pleading, deliberately stepping between them.

That broke the moment. The look John gave Bobby was ugly and filled with warning, but what he offered Rogue was a grin, just like the Johnny of old, complete with a wink.

Then he was gone, at a trot across the hard-packed snow, defying the arctic temperatures. Rogue stepped past Bobby to the controls, but she made no move to raise the ramp. She knew how John felt, and a large part of her wanted to follow, she wanted to find her friend. She wanted to help Buffy.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy found herself back in the dam but she didn't see Jean. "Jean?"

"I'm here Buffy. You're still inside his mind. What do you see?"

"I see what looks like the dam. There is a staircase." Buffy said as she descended the staircase at a run, hitting the floor in a roll that took her to cover amid the ranks of hulking, spinning generators, each the size of a modest one-story house.

Buffy knew he'd be waiting and had an idea where he'd be. Most of all, she was fairly certain what he'd do.

He didn't disappoint.

"Scotty! It's Squirt!" Buffy said.

Scott hesitated and in that hesitation the scene changed. Scott looked around him and saw a hospital room. Sitting next to a bed he recognized an eight year old Buffy. How he knew he wasn't sure, but he was sure that this was two months before his mutation had first manifested. Then he saw her on the bed. "Celia."

Sixteen year old Buffy stepped beside Scott. "Yes. Celia."

Scott looked at Buffy who had tears in her eyes. "This is your memory? Of when …"

"She died, yes," Buffy said. "Scotty, you're drugged."

Scott nodded. "I know," he said as he reached up to wipe the tears from his cousin's face. "I'm trying to fight it, to regain control of my body but it's difficult."

Celia started to thrash in her bed as Scott looked at her. He saw eight year old Buffy look at her cousin concerned.

"Celia?" Eight year old Buffy said.

"You had to watch this, alone," Scott said.

"Yes," Buffy said. "And if you remember right I cried for a week afterwards. She was my best friend."

Scott nodded. "She was a wonderful sister. I should have been there for you."

"You were Scotty," Buffy said. "Maybe not then. But afterwards. I may have lost my best friend then. But I gained a new one in you."

Scott smiled and hugged Buffy. "I can feel the drug weakening."

"Then its time to go back," Buffy said.

"Squirt," Scott said.

"Yeah."

"Thank you for showing me," Scott said.

"You're welcome." Buffy said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the real world Jean had been fighting Scott trying to keep him from her and Buffy. A concussion sent, her, Buffy and Scott flying. The effects of the explosion radiated outward from the source, making themselves felt in every corner of the complex. The generator room itself shook like it was in the middle of an earthquake, the big machines rattling and groaning as they tried to cope with stresses that pushed the limits of their design specs. Dust and more fell from the ceiling, and off in the distance there was a resounding clang as a stretch of iron railing gave way.

High up in the shadows, unnoticed, a seam opened in the wall . . .

. . . and water began to leak through.

Scott's hand trembled, his mouth working as he struggled to speak. His breathing quickened, his hands clenched to fists, inside his mind the darkness had replaced Buffy's memory of Celia's death. There were flashes of light within his mind as he with Buffy's help fought his way through the fog, then he heard Jean calling out to him. He cried out trying to answer her cries.

Then, suddenly, he was crying aloud, desperate incoherent sounds like a man might utter clawing his way up from some abyss of the spirit, culminating in a great and awful scream that made her own pain insignificant by comparison.

He collapsed to his knees and sobbed, taking in breaths of air in huge, noisy gulps, a drowning man who'd finally reached the surface long after he thought all was lost.

He flinched when Jean touched him, curling in on himself, startled and terrified, too much like a dog who expected nothing but beatings.

That made Jean angry, because this was her man and he was none of those things.

She touched him lightly once more on the face, but with her thoughts she enfolded him in warmth, in strength, in passion. She let him see reflected in her vision of him the man she knew he was, who made her complete.

~It's okay, Scott,~ Jean told him telepathically and said the same aloud: "It's okay, it's me. It's me!"

"And me," Buffy said as she came up alongside Scott and Jean.

And as he looked up in relief, Jean and Buffy took him in their arms.

"Buffy, you're hurt," he said.

Buffy smiled. "Yes you are right. But I am Slayer. Remember every Slayer comes with their own regenerative abilities."

Scott nodded and smiled at Buffy. He then looked toward Jean. "Jean," he said, and then, haltingly, "I—I'm sorry."

Jean kissed him on the edge of his mouth. "It's okay. It's okay. I ... I was so afraid I'd lost you."

"So was I." Buffy said. "So was I."

"Thanks," was all he said, but Buffy and Jean could see the emotions that went into that single word, and they hugged him for it.

A moment later, Jean's expression changed and she looked around the room in alarm. "Scott, Buffy," she said urgently, frustrated that she couldn't tell them why, "something's wrong!" And then she cried out suddenly. "Oh."

"Jean," Scott demanded, "what's wrong?"

"Voices," she gasped, "so many voices, can't you hear them, of course you can't what am I saying oh Charles oh Charles what have you done?"

"Jean!" Buffy and Scott said in unison.

"Buffy, Scott, it's Cerebro," Jean cried with genuine terror. "We're too late!"

And then Jena screamed. She collapsed to the floor, clutching at her head and howling. Buffy and Scott knelt beside her, both of them struck through the heart to see her in such pain, yet utterly helpless to alleviate it.

They heard a deep thrum that sounded to them like tectonic plates grinding, and then, just like that, they lost all ability for rational thought as their own heads were overwhelmed by a sleet storm of pain. Their eyes were burning and their brain with it, the fire coursing down their spine and along every path and linkage of their nervous system.

Scott's last, desperate, marginally conscious act was to throw himself clear of Buffy and Jean, to wrap his arms around his head and tuck his body in as tight upon itself as he could manage. His beams couldn't punch through his own flesh; this way, he hoped, he prayed, he wouldn't unleash them on anyone else. He wouldn't hurt Jean or Buffy—any more than he already had.

Even through the pain Buffy's eyes clouded over and her cognitive ability started to overload her mind showing many images of future and past events. Even though she was no telepath she reached out with her mind and with her last conscious effort she tried to say goodbye, ~Marie! I love you my friend!~ And then she lost consciousness.

Aboard the Blackbird, Rogue was struggling to reach the controls, to do as Ororo had told her, but she couldn't make it. She couldn't even rise from the deck where she'd collapsed. Tears on her face, she couldn't stop Bobby from grasping her by the hand—in a grip that froze her to the shoulder, as he'd coated every visible surface on the plane with a sheet of glittering hoarfrost. His skin was transparent, she could see right through him, with him looking like a three-dimensional X-ray—only this one was made entirely of ice.

She could see his skeleton, and faint hints of what must be his heart and lungs and other organs. No sense of blood, no visible nerves, and he crackled faintly with every move, with every breath. His voice was arctic, biting and cold and nothing like he usually sounded.

Ice shattered as he wrenched her glove off her arm, she begged him to stop—at least in her mind—but nothing emerged from her mouth, there was this huge crowd crushing in around her, all the people she'd ever imprinted rising up inside her skull in rage at what she'd done, ignoring her apologies, her attempted explanations, demanding instead that she yield control to them. She knew he was trying to save her, offering his strength to give her a better chance of surviving, no matter the cost to himself. She didn't want that, she couldn't bear her own survival at the cost of his, and she knew as well that he didn't care.

He held her bare hand in his, deliberately initiating contact—and imprinting—and her eyes bugged wide as it turned to ice the same as his, while his started to look more and more normally human.

"Bobby, stop it!" she shrieked, and from lips that tasted chill as the pole came a voice that was a match for his, cold and remote and unhuman as space itself.

And from her eyes, as she saw from his, felt tears that froze to both their cheeks.

And then she heard something she knew was impossible. A thought inside her head from someone she knew was not a telepath.

_~Marie! I love you my friend!~_

"Buffy." Rogue said quietly. Then she realized what Bobby had earlier and she smiled despite the pain.


	16. Chapter 14: Cerebro

**Chapter 14: Cerebro**

Buffy's first sight was not of Scott and Jean smiling at her. What she saw was Mystique, Magneto, Xavier and a mutant. He had Mystique in Stryker's image telling the mutant to kill the humans instead of mutants.

"Buffy," Jean said with a twinge of worry as she and Scott saw Buffy's eyes were clouded over the very moment they opened. "What do you see?"

"Magneto. He's going to make it so the Professor kills all the humans instead of mutants." Buffy said. She went on to tell them everything she was seeing. How Xavier was trapped by a mutant in an illusion.

Scott helped Buffy up. "Squirt?"

Buffy blinked her eyes and they cleared. "Yeah Scotty?"

Scott smiled at his cousin and he led Jean and Buffy down the corridor.

Jean sensed movement in the air that warned her of others approaching well before they actually came into view, so that when she, Buffy and Scott came around the corner, Ororo was there to greet them followed by the missing kids as well as two teenagers they did not recognize that she introduced as Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg.

"Jean, what's going on?" Ororo demanded.

"The professor is still inside," Jean said. "According to Buffy he is with another mutant. Another psi, very powerful, very twisted. Very dangerous. I've got to steer clear of him, too much chance of being snared like Charles. There's some kind of illusion, Charles is trapped, he thinks he's home, at the school! Magneto's reversed Cerebro, it isn't targeting mutants anymore."

"So who's it targeting now?" Storm demanded at the same time.

"Everyone else," Buffy said. "All the humans without gifts."

"You've got your optic blasts, Cyclops," Artie, one of the kids Stryker had kidnapped, piped up. "So blast the door open!"

"I can't," was the reply.

Jean explained, "Once the professor's mind is connected to Cerebro, opening the door could kill him." There was a moment's pause as all of them considered that as suddenly a very real possibility.

"We'll have to take that chance," Scott told them, even though he loved Xavier as a son does his father.

But before Scott could do anything Buffy's eyes had clouded over again and she smiled. "No. Kurt, you have to take me and Storm in."

"What do you see?" Jean asked.

"Only Kurt taking us in. I see nothing beyond that," Buffy said.

Nightcrawler shook his head. "It's too dangerous. I cannot teleport blind. If I can't see where I'm going, I—"

"Who is this guy?" Scott demanded.

"I'm Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus—" said Nightcrawler as he began his spiel.

"He's a teleporter," Ororo said simply, holding up her hand to forestall Nightcrawler's introduction. "Buffy, are you sure?"

Buffy nodded. "I see you Storm. You, me and Kurt."

"Storm," Nightcrawler pleaded, "I can't!"

"Kurt, I have faith in you." Ororo said.

"Kurt," Jean said, "if Stryker's replicated the Cerebro chamber, then where you're going is essentially a huge, empty room. I'm projecting a mental image of the space into your head. Use that for your benchmarks. Stay clear of the walls, stay clear of the platform, you've got room to spare. Do you see it?"

Nightcrawler nodded and gathered Ororo and Buffy into his embrace, arms around Ororo's shoulders, tail wrapped snugly around Buffy's waist as she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"One last thing," Jean said, "don't believe what you see in there. Remember, Charles' adversary traffics in illusions."

"This just keeps getting better and better," Nightcrawler grumbled.

"If you're not clear in five minutes," Scott said warningly, "I'm coming in after you."

Ororo and Buffy nodded, and so—reluctantly—did Jean.

"Are you ready, Kurt?" Ororo asked him. He wouldn't meet her eyes, but not because he was avoiding her. For the moment, his mind—and prayers—were elsewhere.

"Our Father," Nightcrawler whispered, "Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth—" And just like that, they were gone. "—as it is in Heaven!"

Just like that, they were somewhere else.

Buffy and Storm had never teleported, and after this ride never wanted to again. They didn't know how Nightcrawler could stand it. They felt like they'd been turned inside out and left a trail of body parts all the way back to where they started. It was like they'd thrown up, horribly, but only inside themselves, and was left feeling all twisted and out of sync.

They'd materialized right where Jean had suggested, in the air about half a body length above the gallery. Ororo and Buffy were in no condition right then to notice, or do anything, so Nightcrawler continued to hold them as they dropped to a landing.

They expected to find two figures: Xavier himself and the mutant who was controlling him. But—surprise—no Xavier, no command console, no command helmet.

The only other presence in the vast and empty room was a young girl, standing right at the edge of the platform. Having no idea what to expect, but taking his cue from Ororo and Buffy that something was wrong, Nightcrawler looked around, eyes narrowing at the way the curvature and coloring of the sphere made the room seem like a limitless space.

"Hello," said the little girl brightly, as though she was welcoming guests to her house.

"Storm," Nightcrawler wondered aloud, "have we come to the right place? Is this Cerebro?"

Ororo nodded, her attention focused, not on the girl, but on the space a little beyond her where normally Xavier would be sitting.

"Is it broken?"

"No."

"What are you looking for?" asked the girl.

"Professor!" Buffy called.

"Charles!" Ororo called.

The girl smiled sweetly, but there was hollowness to her eyes, an edge to her stance, and the whole shape of her face around that smile, that made that sweetness a lie.

"I'm sorry," she said, "he's busy."

Ororo and Buffy stepped toward the little girl.

"Professor, do you hear me?" Buffy called, more loudly than before.

"Listen to me, Charles!" called Ororo. "Whatever you're seeing, whatever you're experiencing, it's an illusion! You're in an illusion!" She heard no reply, and when she spoke again, there was a faint roll of thunder to her voice. "You have to stop this—you have to shut down Cerebro—now!"

The girl actually laughed. "Who are you two talking to?" she asked, in all innocence and rich amusement.

Buffy and Ororo wondered for a moment why the girl wasn't doing something more serious to stop them and answered their own question just as quickly. She probably needed most of her energies to maintain her hold on Xavier. As far as the girl was concerned, they posed no significant threat. All she needed to do to win was delay them long enough for Xavier to finish his work. After that, it wouldn't matter.

Nightcrawler started forward, intending to confront the girl physically—perhaps considering teleporting her out of the chamber—but Ororo and Buffy stopped him.

"Kurt, don't move," Ororo told him. There were better ways to tempt the Gorgon.

"She's just a little girl," he said.

"No," Buffy said flatly, "she's not."

"Oh."

"Good advice," said the girl.

For the first time in her life Buffy consciously caused her mutation to activate as her eyes clouded over and she smiled. "Storm," she said. "It's going to get very cold in here."

Ororo looked at Buffy as she noticed the Buffy's eyes. She stared at Buffy for a moment before understanding creeped into her mind and she smiled.

The girl smiled. "I've got my eyes on you! He'll be finished soon," she said in a voice rich with satisfaction, a glutton enjoying the feast of a lifetime. "It's almost over."

"This is not good," Nightcrawler muttered.

"Kurt," Ororo said as she echoed Buffy's words to him, "it's going to get very cold."

He nodded back to her, understanding that she was talking about more than the usual winter chill. "I'm not going anywhere."

"When the times comes, we'll have to hurry—and there won't be any margin for error," said Buffy.

"In my whole life on the trapeze, I've never missed a catch. Do what you two have to. Trust me for the rest."

As he spoke, he saw mist on his breath and realized Ororo had started what she and Buffy had planned. Their warning was no joke; the room's ambient temperature had already dropped enough to make him shiver.

"There are winds you find in the wastelands of both poles," Ororo said. "Gravity grabs hold of cold, dense air and pulls it down the slopes of mountains and plateaus. In a volcanic eruption, the same thing happens with a pyroclastic flow. The air picks up an incredible amount of speed and that speed makes it colder. It's a dry wind, there's no precipitation. You can consider it a sandstorm of ice and snow. This wind cuts. It can freeze you in a heartbeat, not by coating you in ice but by turning the marrow of your bones to crystal. You don't fight this wind, you go to ground, you endure. You find a way to survive."

"What are you doing?" the girl wailed.

"Storm," Nightcrawler cried, "she's a child."

"She's an illusion," said Buffy.

"Does that give Ororo the right to condemn the being who created her?" he asked.

"Do we have a choice, Kurt? That mutant's life for the professor's, and likely the world!" said Ororo.

"That's a decision Magneto would not hesitate to make, I know. Nor have the slightest regret over it," he replied.

Neither Ororo nor Buffy said anything as Ororo's eyes blazed like silver beacons against the darkness.

"I'm freezing," the girl shrieked, her voice breaking, turning masculine and adult, then back to a girl once more. "You're hurting me. Make it stop! Stop it! Stop it!"

Just like that, the illusion flickered, faster and faster, like a manic strobe. The girl vanished, as did the illusion of the silent room and the deactivated Cerebro. They found themselves in chaos, with chunks of scaffolding and shielding plate tumbling all around.

Feeling frozen solid, Nightcrawler ducked as a piece the size of a limo took out a portion of the gallery back by the doorway. Buffy and Ororo ignored it all and stood their ground, their eyes fixed on their adversary.

Xavier felt the chill and knew it at once for what it was. He sensed the ripples of static on the fringes of his awareness and understood at once what Ororo was doing. He beheld the hologram of the globe at life-size and the lights that blazed across its surface, bright, so bright, like candles on the brink of going out forever.

And he knew, with a realization that would haunt him to the end of his days, what he was doing here.

His first instinct was to shut down the Cerebro wave at once, but he held back. The process of disengagement had to be gradual, to allow the afflicted bodies and psyches to decompress, lest the shock of instant recovery do as much damage as the attacking wave itself.

To do that, though, he had to deal once and for all with—

"Jason," he said quietly as he turned. He didn't ask Ororo to temper her winds. The young man who sat across from him knew too many pathways into his mind, he dared not allow him another opportunity to reassert control.

"No," the girl pouted defiantly, narrowing her eyes, shaking her head, fiercely trying to compel obedience.

"No," she repeated.

There was no inhibitor on Xavier's thoughts now; with it in place he couldn't operate Cerebro. That was why he had to be completely under 143's influence before he was allowed into the chamber. The pathways that 143 had used to work his way into the core of Xavier's being now provided equal access to their source. The young man was gifted, and powerful, but Xavier acknowledged no equals, especially with the survival of humanity at stake.

"No," she cried again, with tears. "Stop! You're hurting me!"

What he sent was a little bit of energy, or personal grace. A psychic aspirin. He couldn't banish the physical effects of the Cerebro wave, but at least he could ameliorate the residual pain. The victims might remember that pain, but they would no longer feel it. Quite the contrary. They'd actively feel better, like waking at the dawn of a fresh and beautiful day, whose sunrise contained the promise that anything was possible. And that those possibilities were good ones.

He reached up and removed his helmet, and with that severed his direct contact with Cerebro, which obligingly completed the full shutdown process. The globe vanished as if it had never been.

With it went Ororo's winds, her eyes reverted to normal at the same time Buffy's did as Nightcrawler took them by the hand. Because the air was so dry, there was no evidence of the terrible cold Ororo had created beyond the residual chill itself.

The moment the helmet cleared Xavier's head, the vault door blocking the entrance was blown wide open, taking with it a fair chunk of surrounding wall.

Hot on its heels, Scott plunged into the chamber, only to backpedal frantically as a new series of explosions deep within the complex dropped another length of ceiling on the entrance, hopelessly blocking it.

The room shook as if it were a ball being worried by a playful puppy, and this latest assault proved far more than its structure could bear. As the platform and gallery began to twist alarmingly, Xavier chose to ignore the risk as he pivoted his chair and pushed toward Jason. The young man, grotesque as he was, had taken on the aspect of a waxworks mannequin. There was no expression on his face, no emotion in his eyes. Xavier sent thought after thought to him, but the harder he reached, the more defiantly Jason pushed him away.

He wanted no part of what Xavier had to offer.

A massive plate clipped the edge of the platform, and Xavier looked up to see most of the upper hemisphere crashing down on them.

He knew what had to be done and lunged forward in his chair, attempting to grab Jason by the body or the chair—by some part of him—in hopes of creating a daisy chain of physical contact that would allow Nightcrawler—whose capabilities he could see clearly in Jean's mind—to teleport them all out of harm's way.

Jason would have none of it. Using the motor controls of his own chair, he backed out of reach just as the huge pieces of wreckage smashed into the gallery.

Then they were all falling as the platform gave way. Xavier felt Buffy's arms, and something else that he belatedly realized was Nightcrawler's tail, but he didn't really register their touch. He had eyes only for the tortured, and now broken, semblance of a man whom he prayed had finally found his measure of peace.

The next thing he knew, after a moment of altogether sublime misery—which Jean's thoughts had not warned him about—he was in Buffy's arms, with Jean, Storm, Scott, Nightcrawler, the stolen children and two teenagers (that Stryker had kidnapped from someplace in California) crowded close around.

* * *

**Author's Note:** My apologies for the author's note that was uploaded earlier today. As a reviewer reminded me I shouldn't be letting others dictate what direction to take the story in. They aren't the writer I am. Again my apologies.


	17. Chapter 15: Escape

**Chapter 15: Escape**

Ororo led the way, down what seemed to be endless tunnels. Fast as they hurried, she knew this was taking too long.

Nightcrawler and Buffy were the closest behind Ororo. Buffy was carrying Xavier in her arms as if the X-Men's mentor weighed next to nothing. The assembled students from Xavier's as well as Xander and Willow marveled at her strength to carry a full grown man.

Next came the children, with Scott and Jean bringing up the rear.

They eventually reached the loading bay. They'd felt no more big explosive shocks the past few minutes, but it was clear that something just as bad was taking their place. Dust and small bits of debris were falling from every surface.

Their plan was to leave the way they had come, out the massive double doors at the far end of the loading bay and then along the spillway to the forest and, ultimately, the Blackbird.

The doors were wide open, and as they crossed the broad expanse of the loading bay, the kids commenting excitedly on the smashed and burned-out wrecks they passed along the way, Artie and Jubilee raced ahead, ignoring Ororo's cross, "Stop!"

"I—said—stop!" Ororo said, her voice taking on a tone of finality as her senses told her what was up just on the other side of the doors.

And Artie and Jubilee did, right at the bottom of the approach ramp to the doors. Ororo caught up with them, snatching them off their feet and into her arms. The air outside these doors was being assaulted by the leading edge of an air ram, a pressure wave compressed to the point of being an almost solid mass, by the force that was pushing it down this channel. It wasn't a stampede she was witnessing. The gates to the dam had been opened. The spillway was flooding.

Jean separated herself from Scott and took a stance at the foot of the ramp, gritting her teeth as the air before her started to shimmer. Her red hair stirred without the slightest breeze and Ororo knew that her friend was going to pit the whole of her telekinetic ability against the unimaginable force of the water coming down that huge tunnel. A great grinding noise filled the room, and everyone at first assumed it had something to do with the onrushing flood, building its own runaway train crescendo outside.

Then the kids, and Ororo, and even Jean, jumped as the double doors slammed shut.

"Trust me, darlin'," Logan said, "you don't want to go out there." And they turned to find him a short way along the wall, with one fist jammed up tight against a sparking junction box that looked as big as his own chest.

Then an even more resounding BOOM shook the space, knocking most of the mutants present off their feet as it made the room shudder so hard it felt like a real earthquake. The doors bowed slightly from the impact shock, and water spurted from the central seam with the force of a high-pressure fire hose.

As Logan retracted his claws, Xander looked down at his hands and then at Logan and then back at his own hands.

"Is everything okay?" Willow asked.

Xander slowly nodded.

"Everybody here?" Logan asked. "Everybody okay?" His eyes told him the answer to the first, his senses cataloged the rest, and he zeroed in on Jean and Buffy.

Jean didn't give him a chance to say a word but turned her face to him and said, "We're fine, Logan. Please, help the professor."

Logan nodded as he moved beside Buffy. "Come on," he told everyone, maybe a little more gruffly than he'd intended. The adults chose not to notice. "There's another way out."

The spillway wasn't enough to save the day or even slow the process of collapse. Quite the contrary. The sudden and tremendous rush of water had the same effect on the underground complex as the earlier explosions. Wherever there was a weak bulkhead, wherever access portals had been left open, wherever doorways failed, water crashed into Stryker's base, further undermining the foundation of the dam itself.

Well clear of the complex, but still below the dam, the team emerged from Stryker's escape tunnel. Logan pointed them over the crest of the hill to the helipad, and Storm hurried ahead to prep the vehicle for takeoff.

They found her on the edge of the trees, staring at the empty platform.

"Logan?"

"Son of a bitch," he growled, and charged across the clearing.

They caught up with him where he'd left Stryker. Logan was kneeling by the body, tapping one extended claw against the chains that had wrapped themselves so tightly around the man's throat he'd been virtually decapitated.

They didn't need an explanation, but he provided one anyway. "Magneto."

And again, with dark and deadly feeling, "That son of a bitch!"

"After what he'd done, Logan," Xavier said quietly, "small wonder he wouldn't face me, or any of the X-Men."

"Charley," Logan growled, "you don't understand—"

"If you say so."

Logan looked up and around, back in the direction of the dam, reacting to cues only his enhanced senses could perceive. Well, not quite his alone, because Storm and Buffy were looking, too.

They started up the slope together, intent on reaching the top of the hill and having their eyes confirm the disaster that had befallen them. What they would do next was anybody's guess.

At last a chunk of facing larger than a freight car bulged outward from the body of the dam. Girders and rebar held it somewhat in place for a span of seconds as the stream of escaping water erupted into a raging torrent, but the stresses it endured went far beyond the limits imagined by any of the design team. Steel snapped like breaking strings, and these countless tons of concrete went spinning along the crest of a brand-new waterfall as lightly as a flat stone skimming the surface of a tranquil lake. It flew through the air at a slight angle and shattered against one of the pump houses with the force of a good-sized bomb.

In its wake, cracks as wide as roadways exploded across the face of the dam, rapidly reaching all the way up to the summit so that the next section to go involved a significant area of the wall. All pretense of integrity was gone. One collapse triggered the next as inexorably as a falling line of dominos, so that by the time Storm and Logan, with the irrepressible Artie close behind, reached the crest of the hill with its unobstructed view, there was virtually no dam left to see.

Just countless billions of gallons of water, thundering down the valley straight toward them.

"What is it?" Artie asked in breathless disbelief.

"Alkali Lake," Logan told him. "All of it."

He turned to Storm. "How many can you carry?" he demanded. She wasn't sure, and said so. "How about the damn elf, what's-his name? How many can he carry, how far can he jump? And Jean, her mind thing, the teke, can she use it to make some kind of boat?"

He was speaking in a rush, hand on her arm, Artie—who for once kept his mouth shut—tucked under his other arm as he propelled her down the slope. They had maybe a minute to act, and he wasn't about to waste any of it.

"What about you?" Ororo demanded of him.

He snorted with derisive laughter. He could take care of himself, even in a flash flood of such immensity.

The rescue was doable—it had to be; they all knew that any other outcome was utterly unacceptable. They didn't have to go far, just clear of the wave front.

Just then, a tremendous wind blasted the clearing from above. It was too soon for the pressure ram leading the flood to reach them, and this downdraft was accompanied by the shriek of high-performance jet engines that sounded definitely not in a good mood.

Skimming the surface of the treetops, when it wasn't actually plowing through them, the Blackbird sideslipped through the air toward them with a pale and terrified Rogue doing her best at the controls. All around her in the cockpit, displays flashed red and presented ominous messages in both text and voice, telling her in unmistakable terms that she was not flying the big jet at all properly or well.

She couldn't help herself, she yelled right back at the telltales, agitation bringing her lower Mississippi accent to the fore with a vengeance. "I'm doing the best I can, damn it! Leave me the hell alone!"

They didn't listen. They kept right on yammering—about airspeed, flight profile, engine temperatures, hydraulic pressure, ground proximity, the landing gear. At least the last warning was something that made sense. She slapped the big lever on the front panel, the same way she'd seen Storm and Jean do it, and was rewarded by the hollow thunk of the struts lowering from their wheel wells.

Unfortunately, that also screwed up the plane's balance and performance, creating additional drag that she wasn't expecting and didn't know how to cope with.

One of the main bogies snagged the crown of a fir, creating drag enough to pivot the plane right around and tip it to one side. Rogue tried to compensate, twisting the control wheel and applying power to the throttles, but she overdid both elements so that when the plane wrenched itself loose it slipped immediately into a flat spin that overwhelmed the ability of the vertical thrusters to compensate.

Fortunately, the plane only had about twenty meters to fall, not a lot of distance for a vehicle whose length was close to double that. As everyone below scrambled for cover, the Blackbird made about half a revolution—Rogue sensibly chopped the throttles to zero— before the impact. It was a hard landing, and the only saving grace was that it landed in deep snow instead of on frozen earth. Even better, while the leading edge of the port wing buried itself in a patch of ground that was fully exposed, that ground was nowhere near solid. For this was where Pyro had collapsed when the initial Cerebro wave had struck. His wildly out-of-control power had melted all the snow for three meters and more around him. All that water had soaked straight into the ground, resulting in a boggy quagmire of mud.

The good news: The wing hit without substantial damage.

The bad news: Like any vehicle lodged in deep mud, it was likely stuck fast.

As heads all around the clearing cautiously poked up to make sure all was well, the Blackbird's main hatch cycled open, and Bobby emerged.

"What're you waiting for?" he yelled. "The dam's collapsed, we've got to go! Hurry!"

Ororo was first in with Jubilee and the children. While the others came aboard behind her, she scrambled to the flight deck. Rogue hadn't let go of the yoke, she was sitting stock-still, teeth chattering, pale as Ororo's own hair, convinced that she'd doomed them all.

Ororo took a moment she couldn't really afford to ruffle the young girl's hair. "You did great, Rogue. I am so proud of you."

Buffy set Xavier down in a seat and he started to buckle himself in. She turned to Rogue and took her by both shoulders. "Hey, Marie."

Rogue looked to Buffy and smiled as she released the yoke and turned to hug her friend. "I love you to," she whispered to Buffy.

Buffy smiled, she knew Rogue had somehow heard her. She led Rogue back as Scott came forward.

Scott started fidgeting a moment as he discovered that the sheepskin-covered seat back was so ice cold he could feel it even through his insulated uniform. There was the thinnest sheen of hoarfrost on the yoke as well, something he was used to finding wherever Bobby Drake hung out.

"What the hell—" he muttered, then relegated the concern to the back burner of his mind as something to worry about and deal with later.

He didn't waste time with preliminaries but initiated an emergency hot start. The engines obligingly spooled up to speed . . .

. . . and then went silent.

He started again, Ororo gently manipulating the throttles, both of them watching the displays like hungry hawks to make sure that this time there'd be no loss of power.

"Thrusters four and six are out," she reported. It wasn't anything Rogue had done; this was left over from the Air Force missile that had knocked them from the sky.

"We should still be able to fly," Scott told her.

"If we were level, absolutely. But we're stuck fast, and the thrusters we need to punch us loose are the ones we're missing. There's not enough power available to pull us out of the ground!"

"You got a better idea?" Scott asked.

She advanced the throttles, and the great aircraft began to tremble violently. Seeing a clutch of tree trunks flipping toward them through the air, Ororo reflexively ducked her head into her shoulders, whistling as they bounced harmlessly past. They'd been torn loose by the flood and pitched on ahead. The mutants had only a few moments before the water was on them. It was now or never.

Xavier sensed the children's agitation and used his telepathy to ease their fear. If this was indeed the end, he would make sure that, for them, it would be peaceful and without pain.

Nightcrawler clutched his rosary and offered up the most heartfelt prayers he knew.

Jean looked outside and knew what had to be done. She went outside and closed the ramp behind her with her teke. Outside, an avalanche of water hundreds of feet high cut a remorseless swath through the valley below Alkali Lake, annihilating every trace of the complex that had been constructed beneath the dam. The pressure wave of air that preceded it made trees that were meters thick bend almost double for the few seconds it took the water to reach them and snap them like kindling. Mist and foam rose from that leading edge of the wave, partially obscuring the awful fury of the event and the devastation it was causing.

Directly in its path, mere seconds from destruction, lay the Blackbird and Jean.

On the flight deck, both Ororo and Scott reacted with surprise as switches and controls began to operate by themselves. Before their eyes the plane once more set itself for vertical takeoff.

Realizing who had to be responsible for this, Scott turned in his chair to call out, concern evident in his voice, "Jean?"

He reached for the release on his harness, but Ororo laid her hand on his arm to stop him. He wrenched out of her hands and made his way back to where Jean had been seated moment earlier. He saw the seat empty. Then he noticed Buffy's eyes.

"Do you see her?" Scott asked with concern.

Buffy nodded. "Yes. She's outside holding back the water."

Logan looked to Nightcrawler. "You get her now," he ordered as Nightcrawler tried to teleport but found he couldn't.

"I can't," Nightcrawler said. "She won't let me."

"I know what I'm doing," Buffy said suddenly. "This is the only way."

Outside at Jean's bidding, the vertical thrusters fired. Mentally reviewing the plane's schematics, she cast forth a piece of her awareness to take a look directly at the problem.

Scott turned to look at Buffy. Her eyes still clouded over. He knelt down next to her knowing that Jean could hear him through his cousin. "Listen to me, don't do this."

Buffy looked at Scott and there was a tear in her eye. "Goodbye."

"No… No…" Scott said as Buffy's eyes cleared at that moment. She looked at Scott's visor, and she knew he was staring into her eyes as she was staring into his.

Outside Jean smiled to herself at how much simpler it was to do the work this way than it would have been with her hands. No more squeezing through impossibly small spaces and getting cut and scraped by wayward outcrops of metal. She identified the problem and, using telekinesis, fixed it.

Obligingly, the engines roared to full power.

"The thrusters are back on-line," Ororo said, grabbing her controls and pulling back on the yoke. He took care of the throttles, advancing them to full emergency power, while keeping a wary eye on their appropriate telltales.

Of course, it wasn't quite that easy. Jean looked to where the wing was still stuck fast. She slipped the throttles out of Storm's grasp and eased back on the power to minimize the risk of structural damage. Another asset of working this way, she discovered to her delight, was that she could multitask at the speed of thought, accomplishing a number of objectives in no time at all.

She lifted telekinetically the wing, the entire plane off the ground. With the plane free it was soaring upwards away. She turned to face the wall of water as she let her telekinetic shield drop and she was engulfed by the wave front.

The engines roared, gravity pressing everyone aboard into their seats as Storm grabbed for altitude, racing ahead of the flood wave at a steep upward angle that bought them the time they needed to rise above the crest of the water.

"She's gone," Logan said. "She's gone."

"No you don't say that." Scott said as he spun on Logan.

Buffy got up and made her way over to her cousin as he fell into her embrace and they both began to cry. "She loved you," she said.

Scott nodded. "I know."

"Just so you know, Scotty. I gave her my blessings. I would have been proud to have called her cousin," Buffy said as Scott smiled at her and hugged her tightly.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After the return to the mansion Xavier called both the Harris family and Rosenberg family to New York. And explained what had happened, that Willow and Xander had been kidnapped and that law enforcement had rescued them. He could tell from the parents minds they were closed when it came to mutants. The Rosenbergs were Jewish and they saw mutants as an abomination. The Harris's were not much better. While he saw no physical evidence on Xander's body he was sure based on the surface thoughts of the boy's parents that he might be abused.

It took a little coaxing on Xavier's part but he managed to get both parents to leave the teens at his school.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Rogue walked down the second floor hall lost in her own thoughts. She didn't notice at first when Bobby called out her name.

"Marie," Bobby said again as he approached her. "When are you going to tell her?"

"What do you mean?" asked Rogue as if she didn't know. She had been debating what to say both to Bobby and to Buffy.

"Buffy," he said. "That you're in love with her."

"I'm in…" Rogue started as Bobby held up a finger quieting her.

"We both know you are not in love with me," Bobby said. "Do you love me, yes I think you do. But you love Buffy more. You should tell her."

Rogue looked at Bobby and then nodded, she knew he was right. Deep down somewhere she knew that Bobby was right, "I do love you, I always will. But your right. At some point I did fall in love with her. I never pictured myself as being gay, but I guess in the end I am."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Xander," Xavier said as he looked at the boy. "Since you've been here I've noticed something is troubling you."

Xander looked down at his hands and nodded. "It's that guy, Logan."

"What about him?" Xavier asked.

"Are his claws natural?" Xander asked.

"They are," Xavier said. "Or at least at one time. The man that abducted you grafted adamantium to his skeleton. Why do you ask?"

Xander flexed his hand a moment and then the bone claws slowly came out of his hands.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Rogue decided she was going to refuse to do Giles' tests. She was happy not knowing if she was a Slayer or not. It didn't matter to her. In truth all that mattered to her was Buffy, her friend, her confidant, her lover.

Xavier had tested the link between Buffy and Rogue and found they had permanently bonded telepathically. He wasn't sure how such a thing was possible. Neither Rogue's nor Buffy's mutation should have allowed the possibility of a telepathic bond. If Xavier had to guess the bond was a result of the Slayer. It had never been meant to be shared. Xavier knew from talking to Giles that it had always been one girl at a time. One died the next one was called. So when Buffy used the Slayer's regenerative abilities to heal Rogue at the Statue of Liberty. The Slayer to make it work had transferred something of itself and Buffy to Rogue, connecting them.

Xavier debated trying to teach them how to erect a shield to block the bond. In the end he found out he could not. The Slayer simply shattered any barrier he tried to put in place. He was fairly certain that through the bond more than just their thoughts might be able to cross. He had theorized that eventually Buffy like Rogue may have to wear extra clothing because she had acquired Rogue's mutation. The same could go for Rogue as she acquired Buffy's cognitive abilities. He was not entirely sure how it would happen though. Mutation was genetic, till Buffy the mystical had never intermixed with science. Who knew how things might change between the two of them. Or how their powers might grow. They could be collectively classified as a class five mutant, now. Because of their bond their potential was limitless.

Xavier decided in the end he would have to teach Rogue how to control Buffy's precognitive abilities and he would have to make sure Buffy knew to protect herself from touching anyone as a precaution. He did not want to take the risk of what would happen should Buffy get Rogue's mutation and she might accidentally touch anyone. He would also have to teach them about the telepathic bond they shared and the dangers of entering each other's minds.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow sat before Xavier, she had been called in two discuss two things.

"The reason I called you in was twofold. First since you and Xander came from Sunnydale, I would like to know if you knew him," Xavier said.

"Buffy said you could read minds, can't …" Willow said.

"Of course I can," Xander said. "But, I do it only if I have permission. I see it as an invasion of your privacy to enter without permission."

Willow nodded. "Xander has been my best friend since we were little."

"And his parents …" Xavier said.

"I know what you're asking," Willow said. "But it will do you know good to know. His body heals fast enough that there is never a bruise."

Xavier sighed. "That confirms my suspicions on multiple things. Thank you. Now may I ask what is your mutation?"

"I'm a werecat," Willow said. "I transform into a tiger."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Are you sure you don't want to know?" Buffy asked as Rogue entered the room closing the door behind her. She was curious to some degree to see if Rogue was now a Slayer.

Rogue smiled as she sat on her bed, facing Buffy. "Yes, I'm sure," she said. "I think it would be just a formality at this point. I am sure we both know what is true."

Buffy thought about it and nodded, Rogue was right she knew. Deep down inside she knew that the dream she had while still in a coma was correct, that a new Slayer had been called. "And about everyone knowing our secret that you and I can touch each other with no ill effects. That we're bonded telepathically?"

"Yes, again I am sure," Rogue said. "There is something I want to do though that we may or may not want to keep a secret if were both okay with it."

Buffy looked at her friend for a long moment. "What?"

"Kiss me," Rogue said. "I want to see if what I feel, you feel as well."

Buffy looked at Rogue, she had never kissed another girl before. She hesitated only for a moment and then moved and sat next to Rogue. She turned towards her friend and then did as Rogue had asked. She kissed her. And in that moment Buffy felt alive, more alive than she had ever felt as she deepened the kiss.

Moments passed before they broke the kiss to take a breath. Rogue smiled at Buffy, "Buffy, I'm in love with you, wholly and completely."

Buffy smiled as she took Rogue's hand in hers, "I'm in love with you, too." She leaned in and kissed Rogue again.

Somewhere buried deep in the recesses of both Buffy and Rogue's minds the Slayer growled its approval as it whispered at the girls telling them they had found their mate.


	18. Chapter 16: Danger Room

**Chapter 16: Danger Room**

**_December 1996_**

War zone, pure and simple.

Officially, it was night, but the darkness only served as a backdrop for a fireworks display of incredible lethality. The setting had once been a fair-sized town, decent central business district, buildings of some substance, two to five stories tall, built to last, of brick and stone. Spreading outwards in a grid pattern, residential streets, single-family homes, everything from Arts and Crafts bungalows to modern "McMansions." Couple of parks, one mostly green space, the other intended for kids and recreation—playgrounds, baseball diamonds, bikeways and running tracks. Schools, of course, and churches. All gone.

The battle lines had surged back and forth over the town, in a manner more reminiscent of the Civil War than modern warfare. Not a building in the town had been left whole and hardly any of the ruins that remained were still standing. The earth was so pockmarked with shell holes, the streets so choked with debris, that vehicular transit was out of the question. Moving on foot was no fun either, since the piles of rubble afforded ideal hidey-holes for snipers and ambush parties, as well as for booby traps of every shape and description.

In the distance, the sky lit up with a line of tracers, curving gracefully through the night as the gunner tracked an airborne target, and a few seconds later the sound of firing followed, _bup-bup-bup-bup. _Both sight and sound were then overwhelmed by an ugly fireball as the falling bombs hit their target.

Three figures, one male and two female, in the black leather uniforms of the X-Men moved silently. The man was in the lead but moving with surprising grace despite his evident bulk, bare arms standing out from the rest of him in the glow of various explosions. The skin of those arms and of his head gleamed as though cast from chrome. This was Piotr Nikolievitch Rasputin otherwise known as Colossus.

Rogue kept pace with her companions, bobbing and weaving with practiced grace, presenting a random and unpredictable target for the opposition—showing excellent instincts for dealing with any trouble that came her way.

"How long do we have?" Colossus called to her.

Next to Rogue was Buffy matching her lover's movements. ~Two minutes,~ she telepathically projected towards Rogue.

In the months since Buffy and Rogue had come back from Alkali Lake. The telepathic bond between them had grown stronger. It now allowed them to communicate telepathically between each other. It had also proven Xavier's theory correct that Buffy would acquire Rogue's mutation. In those months Buffy had started wearing clothes similar to Rogue so as to keep her skin covered and to prevent an unwanted imprint. Rogue had even acquired Buffy's mutation as well and now received cognitive visions. As a result they had collectively been classified as a class five mutant. Since they both shared powers with the other and still had access to their own power as well.

"Two minutes, tops," Rogue replied, as she dove with them to cover in a nearby shell hole, part of a string of depressions that afforded a messy but relatively secure means of slipping across the open patch of ground.

The moment Rogue and Buffy hit, they turned back the way they'd come, every one of their senses on high alert, including their Slayer senses. Suddenly they got a whiff of a cigar and turned to look in the direction it had come from and right at Logan. With their Slayer enhanced eyesight, they could make him out quite easily as they stood straight up to greet him, all thoughts of the mission banished behind their smiles of welcome and pure delight.

"Logan," Rogue and Buffy cried.

"I'm away for a while, the whole world goes to hell."

They heard footsteps, the _kling _of a grenade pin flipping free, they never saw the grenade until it blew. Colossus saw the grenade however—and in the instant it took to fall, the fraction of a heartbeat before it exploded, he grabbed Buffy and Rogue's bare hands in each of his.

Just a year ago the assimilation process of someone imprinting was gradual. It took a definable length of time, enough for Rogue to have second thoughts, for the subject to pull away, as he felt his life literally pouring out of him. Now it was virtually instantaneous, even for Buffy. The girls were sure that Buffy's reaction to being imprinted upon was a result of Rogue's own experiences.

From the point of contact, Buffy and Rogue's skin flashed chrome as armor rolled up their arms across their bodies—while Peter's reverted the other way, from organic steel back to normal flesh—so that when the spray of antipersonnel shrapnel reached Buffy and Rogue, it deflected off…

…to clip Logan instead.

He took another puff of his cigar. "You two gonna stand here and get blown up, or what?"

"We didn't see you at the briefing, bub," Rogue sassed him back. "D'_you _have the slightest idea where we're goin'?"

A brace of searchlights speared down from some hovering platform to illuminate the scene for the enemy gunners, Logan gestured towards a squat and ugly structure some distance away, across what had been the town's central square. "I'm thinkin' that bunker."

The look Rogue and Buffy gave Logan told him he'd scored. They felt a tremor through the ground, saw ripples in a pool of water pulse inward to the center.

Another pulse, establishing a steady cadence whose spacing suggested the march of something massive.

"Time to go, children," Logan told the others, noting that Buffy, Rogue and Colussus were reverting to their original states: Buffy and Rogue human, Colossus in armor.

"We get to that door," Buffy announced, breathless from the double-sided transformation, "we're clear."

The three younger X-Men began moving from cover to cover, just as they'd been trained.

Logan started walking, right out in the open, as though he were out for an evening stroll—making himself a stalking horse for anyone dumb enough to take a shot. Watching him, Buffy and Rogue didn't know whether to admire his courage or shake him silly for being such a damn fool! ~Logan,~ Rogue hissed to herself and Buffy, ~don't you realize, dummy, that the price of havin' friends, people who truly care 'bout you, is that when you're hurt, we feel it, too! Only we maybe don't get over it quite so quick.~

Buffy nodded in agreement.

Rogue noticed several approaching missiles and in the moment before impact, she saw Bobby as well as their new friends Willow and Xander. Or more precisely Bobby, Xander and a tiger. She was happy to see them survive unscathed. In the three months since Buffy and Rogue had begun their relationship. Rogue and Bobby's had become more of something akin to siblings. And then their little family had grown with the addition of Xander and Willow. They had taken the two under their wings. Helping them to learn about their mutations and how to use them to help the others. It was why Willow was in her tiger form now.

"Keep movin', kid," Logan told Rogue. He'd seen what she'd seen. "And keep your eyes dead ahead. If you really need to see something. Use that nice little cognitive ability you got from Buffy."

Logan was leaning against one of the cars, apparently without a care in the world as Ororo and her group approached.

"What are you doing here?" Ororo flared at him, letting a bit more of her feelings show than she'd actually intended.

"Enjoying the scenery," he suggested, choosing the completely wrong moment for levity and then making it significantly worse by using a piece of flaming debris to relight his cigar.

Suddenly, Buffy and Rogue stopped as their Slayer senses sensed movement in the air. "Storm!" said Buffy.

Ororo looked at Buffy and Rogue and then looked up before grabbing Logan and yanking him bodily clear of the car, just as a massive armored foot the size of a semitrailer squashed it flat. They ended up face-to-face, tight against each other.

"I got this," said Ororo, as the foot moved on. Through the smoke and the shadows, the literal fog of battle, none of them was in a position to see what it was attached to. "Watch my back, okay?"

"Not a problem," Logan replied as he glanced at Ororo.

"Hey, bub," Rogue chided gently, "eyes front, right?"

Buffy laughed. "I have to agree, Logan," she said as she glanced toward Xander. She and Rogue had been the only ones Xavier told of his suspicions that Xander might actually be Logan's son. While he had wanted to wait to tell anyone else till he had a chance to talk with Logan. He had told the girls for the singular reason that they could be there for Xander just as Willow was when the truth was finally revealed.

Logan slid a look their way, which made Rogue and Buffy grin. Logan subvocalized a warning growl that set hackles rising on the backs of the necks of the two of the boys and Kitty, but seemed to make Buffy and Rogue's grins grow even wider. Xander seemed to respond to the warning growl unconsciously as an animal cub responded to its parent. Willow on the other hand just shook her fur out and then looked up at Xander, who reached down and patted her behind the ears.

Ororo, all business, brought them back to the task at hand. "Stay in formation," she instructed. "Wait to make your move." She grabbed Logan as he stood to make a move of his own. "Logan, we work as a team!"

Logan smiled tolerantly. "You let me know how that works out for you, darlin'," he replied, and resumed his evening stroll, complete with cigar.

So obvious a target couldn't be ignored. Their adversaries opened up with everything they had. So foolhardy a friend couldn't be abandoned. Bobby and Peter exchanged quick glances. Then Xander and Peter rose to follow.

"Xander! Peter!" Ororo snapped, genuinely furious now. "Get back here!"

The raw edge of command in her voice actually got through to him, and to Bobby as well, who'd been caught halfway to his feet. Peter stopped, torn between wanting to follow Logan and his responsibility to Ororo as mission commander.

Rogue's eyes clouded over and she saw both Xander and Colossus getting hit by the searchlight. "_Peter, Xander!" _she yelled.

Rogue's warning came too late. Even as Xander and Colossus turned, the searchlight found them, and that contact brought all its fellows to bear. Just like that, the team's position was illuminated in a flood of light that defined the scene as bright as day.

A moment later, the bad guys opened fire. With everything they had.

"Move out," Ororo yelled. "Stay _together!_"

Instead, they scattered.

Momentarily forgotten amidst the suddenly target-rich environment, Logan kept walking, the personification of calm amidst growing chaos.

With a multitude of small, fast-moving targets to choose from, however, the gunners found themselves facing a completely different challenge than when the teams had been clustered together. The X-Men couldn't share their abilities to cover one another, but at the same time, they were individually facing a smaller array of weapons. They all began making quick progress towards their final objective.

Willow nudged against Bobby and motioned.

"Storm," called Bobby as he followed the tiger's gaze towards the bunker, "we're almost there!"

Suddenly both Willow and Bobby went flying, they had gotten clipped by debris for their troubles. Bad landing as well, that left them in a twisted, crumpled, unmoving heaps.

Something passed over Xander and Colossus, moving on the bunker, Willow and Bobby. Colossus wrenched the door off a ruined car and hurled it like a discus at the oncoming figure. Metal clanged on metal…

…and the door, suitably crushed, thudded back to Earth at his feet.

Logan, still playing the role of nonchalant observer, was impressed. "Good arm."

Willow and Bobby had fallen, Ororo unable to reach them, the remaining three girls isolated and under considerable and growing fire. Things were out of hand. Kitty summed it up, from her perspective: "We're screwed."

Logan had other ideas. "Throw me," he told Colossus.

_"Shto?" _replied the young Russian. He didn't get it.

"Logan," Ororo called, racing to join them. _"Wait—"_

"Y'understand baseball?" Logan demanded, popping his claws as Xander stared at them. "Y'know, like a fastball?" Colossus nodded as Xander looked down at his own fists. "Then follow where I point, _throw me_! _Now!_"

The armored Russian scooped Logan up, cocked his arm and let fly.

Logan disappeared into the low cloud of smoke that provided a quasi-roof over the town roughly a hundred feet overhead.

The firing slackened, enough for the X-Men to hear the sound of rending metal, followed by an almost unendurably high-pitched _squeee! _It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that meant—Logan had used his claws, pure adamantium, unimaginably and perpetually sharp, wholly unbreakable, on something that didn't much like it.

Confirmation landed before them with a thud that shook the ground, momentum rolling it over two complete revolutions before it came to rest in front of the kids. It was a big, giant head, belonging to some kind of equally impressive robot.

They then heard an explosion of such force that the airborne shock wave struck them like a lesser punch, staggering them on their feet. Some seconds later, whatever the head had been attached to crashed and blew itself to bits.

That was when Logan made his entrance, before any of them had a chance to worry about his fate. He looked a bit the worse for wear but, even as he approached, his injuries were healing with every step. He appeared far more concerned about his leather jacket, which was both torn and scorched. He popped a single claw, forefinger for once, instead of the middle claw he generally tended to favor, and made ready to carve his initials into the crown of the robot's head…

…when a klaxon sounded…

…and the head dissolved before his eyes.

Same applied to the scenery. Night vanished, replaced by the institutional illumination of a vast and sprawling concourse the size of a commercial jumbo jetliner hangar.

The lay of the land was "real," as the floors realigned themselves to provide for a flat and featureless surface, but the town itself was not. On every side surrounding the X-Men, huge panels of photon imagers—capable of generating constructs that were not only three-dimensional but significantly tangible as well—withdrew into their housings.

"You find a way to market this to Hollywood and the theme parks, 'Ro," Logan said, speaking mainly to himself though he used Ororo's name, "your collective fortune is made! I'm starved. Who's up for pizza?"

Willow and Bobby pushed themselves up, they weren't hurt. The Room's core programming wouldn't allow it. Death held no sway here, and the worst the room would do to anyone was stunning them and then use its projectors to paint the most horrendous wounds imaginable on the body.

Xander reached around to his backpack and pulled out a set of clothes as Willow transformed from tiger to human and quickly got dressed.

Rogue slipped an arm through Buffy's arm, visibly and intentionally reminding all of her relationship. In the months since Buffy and Rogue had kissed they had let everyone know of their feelings for each other.

As they all started for the exit, Logan threw an arm companionably across Peter Rasputin's shoulder.


	19. Chapter 17: Revelation

**Chapter 17: Revelation**

After Kitty's gossipy report on the exchange between Ororo and Logan, Xander, Willow, Buffy, Rogue and Bobby came up the elevator on their own. Kitty was the resident geek, and she often seemed far more comfortable with the server array that ran the Danger Room than with the students who used it.

Rogue was in a foul mood and Buffy was determined to ferret out the cause, and then hopefully stomp it to death. She cared too much for Rogue and hated seeing her so torn up inside. So she pushed and pushed as they rode the elevator and finally she caved, spitting the words out like bullets.

"What's wrong," Rogue announced in that tone of hers which suggested she was annoyed to have to be stating the obvious, "is that I can only touch you. Other than that, I'm wonderful."

Buffy sighed and looked at Rogue. She knew how her friend felt. She could no longer touch anyone but Rogue. She would love to hug Scott or her mother, but she no longer could do those things.

With tutelage and practice, both Buffy and Rogue had gained a measure of control over their shared ability to assimilate powers and psyches. They could do it much faster than when Rogue had first acquired the power, as they'd proved with Colossus in the Danger Room, doing far less harm to their subjects in the process. But those were flash-hits, combat situations. Buffy and Rogue borrowed a power for a specific reason and just as quickly gave it back again.

_Or_—they'd touch a bad guy a bit longer to take him out of the fight. Their upper limit would allow them use of the powers for twenty-four hours max, putting the guy they nailed out cold for the same length of time.

At the moment, though, Rogue and Buffy had no need for their powers. They didn't just want to touch each other but friends and family as well.

Moments later they stepped into their room and Buffy shut the door behind them, "Marie."

Rogue turned to look at Buffy and sighed. Bobby and Buffy nowadays were the only ones who called Rogue, Marie. Everyone else had come to call her Rogue. Rogue knew the reason for Buffy's use of her given name was because of the love the two of them shared. "Yeah, Buff."

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked. "Really?"

Rogue shook her head, "No offense, Buffy. But I would love to hug and touch other people. It would be nice to go home and give my parents a hug and tell them how sorry I was for leaving. But I can't do that because I don't want to hurt them."

"I know," said Buffy. "I know how you feel, remember. I would love to be able to go home someday and hug my mom or Scotty. But I can't … hug them that is."

Rogue looked to Buffy and sighed. "I forget sometimes you acquired my mutation," she said. "That you like me can't touch anyone else."

Buffy nodded as Rogue hugged her.

Downstairs Logan called out, "Hey, Scott! They were looking for you downstairs. You didn't show."

"What do you care?" Scott asked.

"I had to cover your ass, for starters!" Logan said.

"I didn't ask!" Scott said.

"No," Logan interrupted, calm in the face of Scott's anger, "you didn't. The _professor _did. I was just passing through."

Scott didn't bat an eye. "So? Pass through, Logan. It's what you do best."

"Look, Scott, I know how you feel—"

This time Scott cut him off: "Don't."

"When Jean died—"

"I said, _don't_!"

Logan stepped in close, but when he reached out to Scott it was with an open hand. "Maybe it's time for us to move on."

Scott didn't give an inch. "Not everybody heals as fast as you—_bub!_"

"Maybe not." Logan said as he watched as the front doors of the Mansion closed behind Scott. He listened to the sound of a bike engine being pushed to its limits and fading quickly into the distance, taking as much time as he needed to compose himself.

He knew he had an audience. With his eyes closed, by scent alone he could name them all. He jerked his head to indicate the show was over, and then found himself looking at Buffy and Rogue, who'd rushed to the base of the stairs.

Rogue stepped forward to offer a little comfort, she didn't need words to tell her that Logan still grieved for Jean. He shook his head.

"Logan," came Xavier's voice. "I need to talk to you."

Logan nodded and followed Xavier into his office. "What is it?"

"Do you remember before you left I asked for some of your DNA," Xavier said as Logan nodded. "I ran it against the young man who was kidnapped by Stryker from his home in Sunnydale. It's a positive match. The boy is your son."

"You're sure," Logan said.

Xavier nodded. "Yes. And this not the only evidence also. Xander has a mutation, to be more precise, he has yours."

"Mine?" Logan asked confused.

Xavier nodded. "He has your regenerative powers as well as the claws. Except his are not coated in adamantium."

"Which means," Logan said. "Stryker likely …"

"… kidnapped Xander intending to repeat the process he used on you," Xavier said.


	20. Chapter 18: Cure

**Chapter 18: Cure**

"They've been called saints and sinners," announced Warren Worthington Sr. to the assembled crush of media. "They've committed atrocities and been the victims of atrocities themselves."

He stood hatless against the stiff breeze blowing into San Francisco Bay through the Golden Gate, in the shadow of the long-decommissioned prison of Alcatraz, with Kavita Rao, bundled far more snugly, standing a bit behind him on the dais.

"They've been labeled monsters, and not without reason,"

Worthington went on. "But these so-called monsters are people just like us. They are our fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters—they are," and here, just for the briefest instant that only Kavita noticed, his voice caught, "our children. Their affliction is nothing more than a disease. A corruption of healthy cellular activity. Finally, there is hope. A way to eradicate their suffering and the suffering of those who love them."

He held up a slide of a DNA helix in one hand. And in the other, a photo of Kavita's long-time patient, young Jimmy.

"A few years ago, we found a mutant with the most extraordinary ability—to repress, and even _reverse, _the powers of those other mutants who came close to him. Now, after much research and experimentation, we've found the means for _all _mutants to get 'close' to him."

He set down the photos and held up a vial. He paused while the crowd before him erupted in flashbulbs. He didn't need his media advisor screaming through his earbug to know that with those words, every news channel on the spectrum had just gone live to this press conference. He wasn't just a sound bite on the evening news any longer, he was speaking to the whole world.

"This site," Worthington was saying, "which was once the world's most famous prison, will now be the source of _freedom _for mutants everywhere. Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present the answer to mutation. Finally, we have a _cure_!"

Rogue let out her breath, unaware that she'd been holding it all this while, trolling her gaze over the assemblage of students, noting how folks were sitting, what they were wearing. She was covered head to toe, a fact of life for a girl who could steal memories and lives with the slightest _accidental _touch. She looked to Buffy who was similarly dressed. If they had this 'cure' two years before she would never have been kidnapped by Magneto and forced to power his machine. And Buffy would never had to imprint on her and risk what happened. On top of that Buffy would not now have to protect her own skin.

Buffy's eyes went to Rogue for a moment and she knew that Rogue was thinking the same thing she was and hoping that the cure was real. She looked back to the TV, which had cut to a talking head recapping the announcement while they rustled up learned commentators, promising an in-depth interview and analysis with author Laurie Garrett.

Rogue looked down at her hands, gloved as always. She made a face, glanced towards Soraya, sitting demurely by the window in her burqa. At least the Afghani girl covered herself up by choice, as an article of her faith. Rogue and Buffy were stuck like this, they'd thought for forever. They looked at each other before returning their attention to the screen—

but _now_…

In Xavier's office Ororo looked ready to hit something, radiating a violent fury that seemed to impress even Logan, and Hank thought it was probably because it reminded the Wolverine of himself.

"Who would _want _this cure? I mean, what kind of coward would take it, just to fit in?" she asked.

Hank bristled ever so slightly. "I understand your concerns, Ororo. For God's sake, that's why I'm here! But not all of us have such an easy time as others _fitting in_."

Ororo looked at Hank, and the pain that showed in his eyes wholly belied the joking words that followed.

"_You _don't shed on the furniture," Hank said.

"I'm sorry," Ororo said. "I didn't mean it that way—"

"Don't apologize," Logan told her, sounding one small step removed from a snarl. "For all we know, the government helped cook this up. I mean, let's be rational for a second and consider the _civil liberties _side of things. Do parents have the right to impose this cure on their kids? Employers on their employees? Suppose someone decides mutants are a public safety issue and society's better off without 'em? Or better yet, let's turn the tables—if you can make a drug to erase the gene, how 'bout one to _create _it? You thought nukes were scary, folks, howzabout _us_? Why bomb an army when Storm can drown it? And what then, the feds decide—for our own _protection_—maybe we belong on a reservation, where we're available if needed but can be kept isolated from the general population? Pandora's box has _nothing _on this."

"I can assure you," Hank said stiffly, defensively, because Logan's impassioned argument walked the same path as too many recent, increasingly heated, conversations between himself and Alicia Vargas, himself and his own soul, "the government has nothing to do with this."

Logan looked at him pityingly: "I've heard that before, bub."

"My boy," Hank snapped, provoked past caring about propriety, "I've been fighting for mutant rights since before you had claws!"

Logan looked to Ororo. "Did he just call me 'boy'?"

_"Enough." _Hank apparently wasn't the only one short of patience. Xavier's voice was harder and flatter than he'd ever heard before. "All of you."

"Is it true?" Rogue suddenly asked from the doorway, beside her stood Buffy. "Can they…_cure _us?"

All of them exchanged looks, but Ororo was the first to answer. "No," she said flatly. She stepped towards Rogue, holding out her hands, offering all her strength and courage, sick with fury at the realization that it wouldn't be enough.

"They can't 'cure' us. D'you want to know why, Marie? Buffy? Because there's nothing to cure. You might as well cure Mozart of writing music, or daVinci of the ability to make machines, or Edison, or Archimedes, or Shakespeare."

Ororo tried to take Rogue's hands, but the young girl pulled them away, flinching. Buffy stepped in front of Rogue instinctually as if she were protecting her.

"Marie," Ororo said, in a tone that would not be denied. "Buffy. _Nothing _is wrong with either of you. Or _any _of us, for that matter. You understand?"

Rogue and Buffy nodded, but Ororo knew that her words had fallen on deaf ears. Rogue and Buffy had heard, but would not listen. And Ororo understood why, the needs of family were important to both girls. In fact from the moment Buffy had acquired Rogue's mutation she had been denied the ability to do the one thing she most wanted, to comfort Scott.


	21. Chapter 19: Scott

**Chapter 19: Scott**

Scott travelled as far as he could by bike, and went the rest of the way on foot. He couldn't remember when he'd last had a decent meal, but he knew he hadn't slept an unhaunted night since Jean died.

He looked haggard, his lean features gaunt, as he stood at the water's edge, staring at nothing.

Once more, he heard her call.

"Stop," he pleaded. "Stop it."

But she wouldn't.

"Scott," he heard, in the voice she once used to call him to bed, "please. Help me!"

That was the last straw.

With a cry torn from the deepest part of him—_"Jean!"_— Scott tore off his visor and opened his eyes wide.

Scarlet glory erupted through the air, as though someone had opened a window to the surface of the sun, and raw concussive energy gouged a momentary trench directly to the bottom of the lake, parting the waters like the hands of God through the Red Sea. Unchecked for once, wholly unrestrained, the bolt hammered at the rock along the opposite shore, following Scott's line of sight so that when his gaze flicked towards one of the remaining towers of the dam, the entire structure shuddered with the initial impact, as though struck by a celestial battering ram. Then, with breathtaking suddenness, it shattered, not into rocks and boulders but powder, allowing the implacable beam to strike the mountainsides beyond.

And then, just like that, the beam was gone, and the only sign marking its passage through the lake was the crash of water filling space, coupled with the rise of vapor.

Scott collapsed to his knees, although even then—spent and exhausted as he was, in spirit and mind and body—he still reflexively groped for his glasses and snugged them back into place.

He was done. He couldn't even cry, not tears anyway.

Wherever the optic blasts came from inside his head, they annihilated his tears the moment they were formed. He could feel the ache of sobbing, he could give voice to his grief, he just couldn't physically cry.

Then the water was stirring, almost boiling as he rose to his feet for a better look. As the display built to a crescendo, water shot skyward in a magnificent fountain easily a hundred meters across, rising three or four times that into the air, better than a thousand feet, generating a shock wave that bent the lodgepole pines around Scott almost double and knocked him off his feet.

He picked himself up, stunned, senses kicking into proper gear, reacting now from his training and experience as Cyclops. And he found himself facing a radiance as welcome and comforting as the morning sun.

"Jean?" He didn't believe it as he spoke, certain that somewhere along the way he'd stumbled headlong into madness, and he was beholding what he yearned for rather than what was.

Her laughter convinced him otherwise.

He could feel her in his heart, the special rapport that had always joined them, casting its warmth throughout his soul, spring arriving to a realm too long beset by the cruelest of winters.

She was fire.

She was life incarnate, in all its glory.

She was his love.

And the smile she gave him when she heard that thought proved it beyond all doubt.

"Scott," Jean called, laughing with delight at the sight of him, yet still skittish to somehow find herself alive once more. Those last moments were still vivid in her thoughts.

The wall of water had struck like it was made of steel, shattering her on contact; she didn't even have a chance to drown. Everything was over in an instant.

Or so she'd thought.

"How?" he asked, reaching out in surprise to her hair, which now fell in glossy waves to the small of her back.

"Dunno," she told him truthfully.

And for a long while there were no more words, nothing at all save for two lovers holding each other close, savoring the joy that comes with finding your heart's desire. Neither had ever been more happy, or at peace.

Jean pulled back, just a little.

"I want to see your eyes," she told him, reaching for his glasses. "Take these off."

"Jean—don't!"

She shook her head. "It'll be all right."

"You've seen what my optic blasts can do. You know these glasses and my visor are the only things that can control them!"

"Trust me," she said. "_I _can control them."

She laid a palm against his cheek, and he couldn't help leaning into it. Smiling in that special way that was for him alone, Jean slipped her hand along the line of his jaw, her forehead creasing with concern at how harshly the last few years had dealt with him, stroking the curve of his ear in a way that made him tremble.

She thought her own heart would crack when he brushed his lips against hers, and wanted to cry to the Heavens that he didn't have to worry, that there was nothing he could do to hurt her. Instead, she returned the kiss, both of them eager for more.

"No more glasses, Scott," she said, as she gently plucked them from his face, "no more fear. I want to see your eyes."

They were tightly closed.

"Open them. Please. You can't hurt me."

He did, because she asked, because she knew at bedrock that he would always trust her, without hesitation or question, because she held dominion over the best part of him.

Nothing happened.

She'd put a telekinetic film over his eye sockets, configured by her thoughts to the same resonance frequency as the ruby quartz crystal of his lenses, holding in check the power within more easily than the glasses ever did.

"They say," she told him, "the eyes are the windows to the soul."

He couldn't hide a bit of bitterness: "Imagine what that said about me?"

Jean would have none of it: "Yours, like your soul, my love, are beautiful."

Looking into Jean's eyes reminded Scott of staring up at the stars, back before his power manifested, when he was a kid, with a kid's dreams, when he could see the world through normal eyes. In that moment, he knew he beheld forever, as rich with endless possibilities as it was with mysteries. And, unbidden, jarring, a warning: _Danger._

One kiss begat another, each caress built on the one before, stoking a passion more intense than either had ever known. They surfed the crest of a tsunami, a wave that would engulf the world, where one misstep would mean oblivion, and neither cared.

They were happy, and they wanted it to last forever. Then, the light in Jean's eyes turned to fire. They opened wide, her lips turning from the latest kiss to an O of alarm, shared in that perfect moment by Scott. Something basic had changed, and neither knew what would come next, nor how to cope.

Scott started to shiver, his skin like the corona of a star boiling off excess plasma.

He looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and saw something that had never been before, that had never even been suspected, and he knew what was coming, both now and in the days ahead.

And because it was his turn, because he knew what it would mean to her, he gave her a smile, the one that came to him when he realized this was the woman he loved and that, now and forever, she would love him. He gave her trust, he gave her strength, he gave her courage.

Not forgiveness, though—because for him, there was nothing to forgive.

Then the world went white.

Two thousand miles away, Buffy screamed.

Rogue got up off her bed and walked over to her lover kneeling beside her. ~Buffy?~

~It hurts, Marie.~ Buffy thought back.

In Xavier's office Ororo and Logan were meeting with Xavier.

"You need to get to Alkali Lake," Xavier ordered, in a tone he rarely ever used with the two of them. It mandated absolute, immediate obedience, no back talk, no bullshit. _"Now! _And take Buffy with you. If what I sensed is correct. She will need to see it for herself."

They went, grabbing Buffy along the way.

They got the _Blackbird _prepped and airborne in record time. Ororo took the plane suborbital, shooting almost straight up once they cleared the launch bay, arcing north by west as they cleared the atmosphere along a track and at a speed that would bring them to their destination in barely a quarter hour.

None of them said a word during the ascent. Ororo was busy piloting, while Logan struggled not to lose what remained of last night's dinner. Buffy sat quietly, keeping to herself. The intensity behind Xavier's command had been such that there'd been no time for uniforms.

They'd departed wearing the clothes on their backs.

"Shit," Logan grumped as he dropped into the copilot's seat.

"You don't want to go back to Alkali Lake," Ororo noted.

"Do you?" asked Logan.

"No," Ororo said plainly. "I don't. But you have more reason not to want to."

Logan sighed and nodded. "Xander."

"What about Xander?" Buffy asked as the hull heated with atmospheric friction and bucked like a mule as the Blackbird started the transition to the deeper atmosphere.

Logan and Ororo looked at each other before looking forward again. "The Professor told me that Xander is my son."

Buffy stared at Logan, her mouth hanging wide open.

Sometime later one of the glass panels on the flight control console generated a schematic map of the valley and the lake. As they continued their descent, and their scanning array got down to business, a dot of light began pulsing. Logan didn't need coordinates to pinpoint the location. It was within spitting distance of where Jean had died.

Ororo threw the _Blackbird _into a tight descending spiral. "Hold on," she told them.

She flattened out at a hundred meters, shifting to vertical flight mode and skimming the treeline like they were flying a helicopter. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the ground. Below thirty meters everything was shrouded in fog, for as far as the eye could see, from one end of the valley to the other.

"We got nowhere to land," Logan commented.

Without a word, Ororo's eyes went momentarily white and, just like that, the fogbank melted obligingly away, revealing that they were right where they wanted to be. Eyes normal again, she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Thanks," he said.

"Anytime." Smooth as could be, without even a bump, she eased the ebony aircraft down from the sky. "In preparation for landing, please restore your seats to their upright and locked position, store all carry-on items and tray tables, and make sure your seat belts are securely fastened."

Buffy laughed at Ororo's joke.

With their first step off the ramp, Buffy knew it was bad. Her Slayer senses screamed alarm. There were no natural sounds, nothing to indicate the passing of a breeze between the trees, or water lapping against the shore. Not the slightest hint of animals of any kind.

Something caught Logan's attention, right at the edge of his peripheral vision, tumbling end-over-end as though possessing a personal exemption from the laws of gravity—and of motion as well, Logan realized, as the object accelerated past him, not the slightest bit affected by the resistance of the air it passed through.

He moved ahead with a silence and a fluid grace that belied his personality, gliding through the forest without making the slightest noise, or leaving any sign.

With a hand gesture, he motioned for Ororo and Buffy to halt while he took a closer look at some leaves on a low-hanging branch. They were thick with moisture from the fog, but that wasn't what caught his attention. His lips tightened, while Ororo's formed a small O of astonishment as she and Buffy joined him; the water was dripping _up _the leaf and falling towards the _sky._

Ororo moved on ahead, while Logan homed in on another object, spinning lazily in midair, like a gyroscope that hadn't quite wound all the way down. He hunkered down to watch, unsure if he wanted to break the spell by reaching out to touch the object. No damage that he could see, nor any sign of violence. Nothing at all out of the ordinary—except its presence, and what it was doing.

With an almost convulsive grab, he gathered Scott's ruby quartz glasses into his hand.

Buffy saw the glasses and screamed as she felt her knees buckle. "No! Scotty!"

Logan looked back at Buffy and then handed her the glasses as he pulled her into an embrace, making sure to only touch her clothes as he tried to comfort her. Now he understood why Xavier had been adamant on Buffy coming. She had to see this for herself. There would have been no other way for her to know Scott might be gone. He was sure if she had been told at the Mansion of her cousin's possible death she would not have believed it. He was about to call out to Ororo when she beat him to it.

_"Logan! Buffy!"_

Despite the flatness of the air, the urgency of her tone was plain. Shock, disbelief, fear, those reactions came through plainly and pulled them to her at a run. They found Ororo down on the beach, kneeling over a body.

She looked up at them, stricken, but they weren't looking at her. Logan had known at once who was lying there, without altogether knowing why, so he stalled by sweeping the vicinity for signs of anyone else. Trying to find Scott, at least for Buffy's sake.

Waste of effort. There was nothing to be seen, Scott was nowhere to be found.

He made a wider, more thorough sweep before they left, searching the ground while Ororo and Buffy paced him overhead aboard the _Blackbird, _using its sensors. He already suspected they'd find nothing, but they had to be sure.

"She's alive," Ororo said, as she turned the aircraft for home. There was a faint catch to her voice; she was both glad and scared.

Logan looked at the glasses still clutched in Buffy's hand. He knew she still had her parents of course and Rogue. But he decided to honor Scott and watch after her himself. He had an equally instinctive comprehension of what had likely happened to Scott. And with it, a fury at whatever deity or fate or whoever had allowed it to happen.

Logan dropped to one knee, reaching out with unaccustomed tenderness to sweep a fall of dark auburn hair aside, and once more looked upon the face of Jean Grey.


	22. Chapter 20: Jean Grey

**Chapter 20: Jean Grey**

"Jean Grey was the only Class Five mutant I've ever encountered," Xavier told Logan, Buffy and Ororo a day later, back in the mansion's infirmary. "Her potential was practically limitless."

"I thought you said Buffy and Rogue were Class Five." Logan said as he glanced at Buffy.

Xavier shook his head as he followed Logan's gaze. "Separately, no they are not, they're both about a Class Four separately. Together they are. What makes them collectively a Class Five is the telepathic bond they share. That bond is what makes their potential limitless. It is that bond that has allowed them to share each other's mutant abilities."

Jean lay on the examining table. Her body was dotted all over with sensors that told them her vitals were totally nominal, and had been since they found her, wholly consistent with her last physical, not long before her death.

"Jean's mutation was seated in her limbic system," Xavier said as he returned to explaining about Jean, "the unconscious part of her mind. And therein lay the danger."

Logan snorted, gaining him a sharp look from both Xavier and Ororo. "I thought you were treating her," he said as he got a warning glare from Ororo about his tone. He didn't much care.

"I tried … I created a series of psychic barriers," Xavier said, "to separate her powers from her conscious mind, until such time as she could integrate the two properly and safely. However, in doing so, she developed a split personality …"

This was news to Logan and, by the look on her face, to Ororo, too. Neither took it well.

Logan spoke for them both. "What?" he demanded.

"The conscious Jean, whose powers were always under control, and that dormant side, a personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself _The Phoenix. _A purely instinctual creature, all desire, and joy and … rage." Xavier said as he checked the monitors, made some notes.

Logan had grown ominously still and quiet. "Jean knew about this?"

"It's unclear precisely how much she remembered," Xavier told them. "The more pressing issue is that I'm not sure whether the woman we see in front of us is the Jean Grey we know, or the Phoenix, violently struggling to be free."

Logan took a step closer, and Ororo tensed. "She looks pretty peaceful to me, Chuck."

"That's because I'm keeping her that way," Xavier replied. "I'm trying to restore those psychic blocks, and reenergize them, and cage the beast again."

Logan's nostrils flared, and this time Xavier seemed to react to the subvocalized growl that issued from deep in the other man's throat. "What did you just say?" he demanded.

"Logan, try to understand—"

"We're talking about a person's _mind _here, Charles, about Jean! We could be talking about her goddamn _soul_! How could you do this to her?"

"She has to be controlled. She isn't safe."

"_Controlled_, Professor, or cured? Because sometimes, when you _cage the beast_, the beast gets angry. Tell me you didn't do this to Buffy and Rogue."

"Did you?" Buffy asked as they looked over at her. "Did you do that to me an Rogue?"

"Logan," Xavier said ignoring Buffy's question for the moment. "You have no idea what she's capable of." He looked to Buffy. "Buffy, I didn't do this to you or Rogue. When the Slayer connected you two, it fought me tooth and nail, literally. It does not want the bond to be blocked. Every time I tried, it just shattered it. It is why I took a different route with the two of you. Taught you both not to use the bond to its full potential. I figured if the two of you didn't know what you were capable of together. You both would be safe."

"No, _Professor,_" Logan spat with finality, and he made Xavier's title sound like the most profane of epithets. "I think I speak for Buffy and I that we had no idea what _you _were capable of."

"Damn it, Logan," Xavier flared, "I want Jean back as much as you do! And I have come to love Buffy and Rogue as much as you have as well!"

Logan shook his head: "Not even close. Sounds to me like Jean, Buffy and Rogue had no choice at all."

Over the days afterwards Buffy visited several times. To anyone who wasn't her they had to wonder though if it was because of concern for Jean or her wanting to know if Scott was alive. She had lost a member of her family and everyone seemed to know that devastation had hit her hard.

"Jean," Buffy heard Logan ask as she walked into the infirmary, "where's Scott?"

There was no response from Jean.

"We traced the beacon on his bike to Alkali Lake," Logan said. "I found his glasses there." Still no response, so he called her name again, "Jean!"

Jean looked past Logan to Buffy who wore Scott's glasses. Logan turned to follow Jean's gaze and nodded. He understood why Buffy wore the glasses. They were her only link to her cousin. He was pretty sure that Buffy at that moment did not care right if she ever saw any other color than red.

"Where is he, Jean? Where's Scotty?" Buffy asked.

"I…" Jean blinked, sniffed, shook her head, blinked again, as though waking from the deepest of sleeps, not comprehending why her eyes were filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Buffy." Her expression twisted with the realization that she had perhaps lost something supremely precious, but didn't yet quite know precisely _what. _"Where am I?" she asked suddenly, catching them by surprise. She really meant it. She had no idea where she was.

"You're in the mansion infirmary, Jean." Buffy said.

"Listen to me, darlin'," Logan said gently, as though to a spooked filly. "You need to tell us what happened at Alkali Lake. To Scott."

Jean reached up to Buffy's face and touched the glasses with the tips of thumb and forefinger. "Oh, God," she moaned, and right then Buffy and Logan knew for certain what had until now been just a suspicion. They'd never see Scott again.

Buffy crumpled to the floor with the confirmation that Scott was gone. A confirmation she did not want. Scott had been her best friend, when his sister Celia had died. And now he was gone. And now all she had left of the Summers family was her parents. And like all those years before when Celia had died, Buffy cried as the grief slammed into her.

"Oh God, Buffy! Logan!" Jean cried out in desperation and terror as screws spun from their holes and shot through the air, the fluid in the IV bags began to drip upwards, and Logan and Buffy's skin began to tingle the way it did on the eve of a wicked electrical storm. The smell of ozone filled the air.

Once more, Logan took Jean by the shoulders. "Talk to us, Jean. _Focus!_" Logan said.

Jean was whispering, so softly they couldn't make out the words.

"Jean!" Logan cried again.

"Kill me, Logan," she said again, making sure he could hear, telling him with her voice and with her thoughts.

He shook his head in absolute refusal.

Only now, she took _him _by the shoulders, with a strength that matched his own, her voice building in power and resonance with every word, "_Kill me_—before I kill someone else! Please, Logan, I'm begging. You're the only one who can. _Kill me!_"

Logan looked briefly at Buffy and then back at Jean. "No," he said. "Look at me, Jean. You're inside my head, deeper than I can go, likely deeper than Charley. You can see where I've been. I've lost it, too, darlin'. But you can climb out of that abyss. We can help you, Jeannie!"

The room began to calm.

"You truly believe the professor can help, Logan?" Jean asked in a voice that held all the sadness that ever was. "That he can fix it, make things like they were?"

"We can try."

She looked him square in the face. "I don't want to fix it."

She hit him with her telekinesis, a shot to the chest containing the full force of a Category Five hurricane.

Anyone else would have been pulped on contact, but Logan merely made a body-sized dent in the wall.

"I can't go back to the way I was. I won't. I'm _free _now."

Jean looked at Logan sprawled unconscious on the floor, her face showing both longing and loss. She then looked at Buffy who sat on the floor still crying. She telepathically entered Buffy's mind and with a simple thought put Buffy to sleep. "I'm so sorry, Buffy." And then she showed the unconscious girl what she had remembered just then of what happened to Scott. "I know it won't help the grief. But at least you know now what happened. And maybe you will be able to do what Logan could not."

She turned to Logan and using telepathy as well as speech because she wanted him to remember. "I thought you more than anyone would understand that, and love me enough to let me go." The image that went with the thought was that of his claws.

With a wave of the hand, she blew open the door and was gone without a backwards glance.


	23. Chapter 21: Aftermath

**Chapter 21: Aftermath**

Xavier pushed the chair to its limit, forcing Ororo into a quickstep that was almost a run in order to keep pace down the long, gleaming hall that led to the infirmary.

"Professor," Ororo demanded, irked as always that there wasn't a sufficient volume of air down here for her to fly, "_talk _to me. What is it?"

"Something's happened." He paused, then more quietly, "As I feared…"

"What? What aren't you telling me?" Ororo stopped as they reached the wide-open doors and beheld the mess inside. "Why didn't the alarms—" she started to ask.

"For the same reason," Xavier broke in before she finished, "none of us were the slightest bit aware that anything was amiss until it was far too late."

Logan was awake, seated on the floor, back to the wall beneath a major dent that he'd clearly made with his body, knees drawn up to his chest as he idly examined one set of his extended claws as though surprised to find them in view. His clothes were in rags and from the gingerly way he moved as he pushed himself to his feet, Ororo realized that he was still in the midst of a major healing.

Then they saw Buffy still asleep.

Ororo rushed at once to Logan's side, immediately taking in the fact that Logan and Buffy were alone in the room. The monitors had been reduced to less than junk, components strewn across the floor like a high-tech carpet. If they did try to access the data they'd recorded, Ororo knew they'd find it irretrievably corrupted as well.

Xavier moved to Buffy and entered her mind.

Fearing the answer, Ororo had to ask anyway, "Logan, who did this?"

"Jean," Logan said. He hesitated before explaining things further. "She's…she's not herself."

Xavier pulled out of Buffy's mind as she woke up. He had deduced that Buffy had telepathically been put to sleep and removed the block that kept her that way.

"I think…she…" Logan said.

"She killed Scotty." Buffy finished for him as tears fell from her eyes.

Ororo refused to believe that as she looked between Buffy and Logan. "No, that can't be!"

Xavier was grimly calm.

"Don't look so surprised," Logan said to him.

"I warned you about her," Xavier replied, and his own sadness was palpable. "I told you what she was capable of."

"What does that mean?" Ororo asked.

Logan tossed a thumb in Xavier's direction. "Ask _him._"

Xavier's thoughts, however, were obviously elsewhere. His eyes were closed, and he was concentrating. "She's left the Mansion," he reported. "She's blocking my thoughts. She is very strong. I hope we're not too late."

"What about Cerebro?" Logan suggested.

Xavier shook his head tersely, as if it was all the effort he could spare. "She's keyed into it, just as I am. Given her current state, she could easily wrest control of it remotely and use it to amplify her own abilities beyond comprehension. Believe me, that is a scenario you do _not _wish to behold. I'm afraid…I must do this…on my own. Buffy may I suggest you go find Rogue and once your feel you can do it, call your parents to let them know about Scott."

Buffy nodded. "Professor?"

Xavier looked back at Buffy. "Yes?"

"Did Jean mean to do it?" Buffy asked.

"Why do you ask?" Xavier asked.

"After she put me to sleep she showed me telepathically what she had done. She told me that it wouldn't ease my grief but that I had a right to know what happened. So that I might be able to do what Logan could not." Buffy said.

Xavier sighed. "I do not have the answers to that Buffy. I wish I did. Only you can find those answers."

Buffy sighed and nodded as she turned and left the infirmary.

Buffy found Rogue and told her everything that had happened. Rogue held her lover and comforted her the best she could. Finally Buffy pulled out of Rogue's embrace and pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

"Summers, residence. Joyce speaking." Her mom said over the phone.

"Mom." Buffy said simply.

"Buffy, how nice it is to hear your voice." Joyce said.

Buffy looked to Rogue and sighed. "Mom, I have some bad news about Scotty."

"What dear?"

"He's dead." Buffy said.

"My god, what happened?"

"We don't know," Buffy said as she heard her mother sobbing over the phone.

"Would you like me to call your father?" Joyce asked between sobs.

"Would you?" Buffy asked.

"Of course dear." Joyce said.

"Thank you, mom. I'll call back later when I have information about the funeral." Buffy said.

"I know," Joyce said. "And Buffy I'm sorry. I know you and Scott were close ever since Celia…"

"Thank you," said Buffy as she hung up.

An hour later Buffy was in Xavier's office. "Professor?"

Xavier looked up at Buffy and nodded. "You wish to go with me to find Jean?"

Buffy nodded. "The only way I'm going to find out if she did it intentionally or not is to try and learn what is going on."

"Very well you may accompany me. But you will follow my orders, is that understood?" Xavier said.

Buffy nodded. "It is."

Sometime later Storm parked the Mercedes in front of the Grey house, and Logan helped Xavier into his wheelchair, grousing just a little under his breath about the impracticality of certain European touring sedans for folks in Xavier's condition. Buffy got out and stood beside Logan and Xavier.

"Wait for me here," Xavier instructed. "I need to see Jean. Alone. Buffy you will get your answers, but not now."

But there was already someone waiting for him. Magneto sat on the garden bench beneath the arbor outside the front door. "You were right, Charles," he said charmingly. "This one _is _special."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Logan demanded with a quality to his voice that suggested all of them—Xavier included—take notice, and perhaps even a wary step back. The look Logan gave Magneto made it eloquently plain who his primary target would be, and that nothing whatsoever would stop him from trying. There was no threat or bluster to the man, Charles saw, just a calm and fundamental certainty, and like knowing the sun will rise, he knew that if the need arose Logan would kill.

If Magneto was bothered by any of this, he gave no outward sign. Instead, he responded as blithely as though they'd all come for afternoon tea: "The same as the professor, dear boy. Visiting an old friend."

Xavier noted that Buffy's eyes briefly slipped sideways, the Slayer's sole reaction to the presence of Juggernaut, Callisto and another of the Brotherhood who called himself Kid Omega. He hoped that Magneto's people would not try anything for he knew what the Slayer was capable of, and he was sure that if push came to shove that she like Logan would kill. "I don't want any trouble here, Erik."

"Nor do I, Charles." The awful truth was that while Xavier knew Magneto meant it, that at heart considered himself an ethical being, he also held with equal certainty that so called humans didn't count.

"Charles?" repeated Magneto, sensing that something was percolating in his old friend's brain but unsure what—which was strange because generally Magneto found Xavier quite predictable. "Shall we go inside?"

"I came to bring her home, Erik. Don't interfere."

"Just like old times, eh?"

"You must trust me, just this once, when I tell you that Jean is more dangerous than either of us ever imagined."

"Well, then," Magneto responded, in a tone of complete assurance, accompanied by a smile of infinite confidence, "it's lucky I'm here to protect you."

As they passed the three members of the Brotherhood, Magneto spoke quietly to Juggernaut: "Nobody gets inside."

Xavier entered first, with Magneto following.

"'Ro, Buffy," Logan said to catch their attention, as the Greys' mailbox began to shudder.

"I'm going in," he told them, but Ororo grabbed him by the arm.

"The professor said he'd handle this." Her subtext was plain: _She's _my _friend, too, for longer than you've known her; don't you _dare _screw this up!_

Juggernaut, obviously sensing a challenge, looking for a fight, strode forward to confront them.

Logan extended his claws. One hand only, three blades, ramming into view with their characteristic _SNIKT!_

Buffy's eyes clouded over and shook her head. "Storm, it's too late to stop Logan. He's going in."

Ororo looked back at Buffy and saw her eyes and nodded.

"I heard those claws, they can cut through anything," Juggernaut announced. "Wanna take a shot?"

"Don't tempt me, bub," Logan cautioned as he retracted the blades.

Buffy and Logan, she with her Slayer hearing he with his simple enhanced senses, heard more than the others.

"That's it," Logan said, pausing as Ororo called his name.

"Logan, wait for me!"

With that, Juggernaut lowered his helmeted head and charged.

Echoing the tactics they'd used in the Danger Room; Buffy, Logan and Storm split apart at once.

Buffy chased Callisto inside as she removed her gloves. She was immediately met with a fist to the head. Buffy dodged easily as she grabbed Callisto and forced her to imprint. Callisto tried to pull back out of Buffy's reach, but it was futile as she crumpled to the ground.

Suddenly Logan and Juggernaut, who had followed Buffy and Callisto in, as well as Buffy and Callisto found themselves pinned to the ceiling.

Logan didn't try to pluck himself free, but went sideways instead, twisting so that he lay mostly on his belly and then using his claws like climbing spikes to drag his body along.

Buffy didn't have the claws to help her but she managed somehow to drag herself across the ceiling as well.

Xavier sensed Logan and Buffy's presence and smiled. It was no accident that they alone were free to move. Jean was now composed entirely of light, a star made of flesh, so far beyond human and earthly terms of beauty that Xavier had no words to describe her. Not even concepts. She simply…_was_. And through her, he beheld the window to all that was and is, and the best of all that might be. He saw in her a reflection of himself, an embodiment of all hope and dreams.

Xavier bared his teeth, thankful for the aspect of his power that allowed him to mute his perceptions of pain. The outer sheath of his skin was being flayed on a molecular level and he didn't want to discover how much that hurt.

He caught a sense of Magneto in the kitchen, staring with equal parts horror and fascination. His old friend was completely entranced. He would take from this only what was useful, ignoring the rest, and that would likely be his undoing. Xavier spared a prayer that Erik wouldn't also take the world with him.

He didn't resist anymore. Xavier felt an eerie, almost welcome, calm, and knew that he was shining with light too, by this point—although nowhere near as brilliant as Jean.

He also knew that as energy, he could neither be created nor destroyed—although his state might well have changed beyond all recognition.

Death would not be pleased with him, this day. He meant to spit in the Reaper's eye.

Because Life—Life would find in him a champion worthy of the name. He was beaten, yes, that was looking altogether likely. But he'd never surrender. And out of that determination and defiance would come the chance, the hope, of ultimate victory. He smiled.

Then he heard Buffy and Logan's hoarse cry, from very close. They'd done better than Xavier had expected.

Jean ignored Logan and Buffy. She had eyes only for her teacher.

And he met that glare, continuing to smile, daring her to do her worst.

She took the challenge, as he knew she would.

Xavier had time to voice a single prayer: "Don't let it… control…you."

And with those words, he cast forth into the heart of her the very best of himself, only a fraction of an unmeasurable pulse of time before she struck what remained of his body with such force that it instantly shattered into less than its component atoms.

A shock wave erupted from the study with cataclysmic effect. In the kitchen, horrified, Magneto threw up his hands to shield his face, coating himself in such an array of magnetic force that he warped compasses for a thousand miles, aware as he did so that if Jean chose to focus on him as she had on Xavier, there'd be just as little he could do to save himself.

The walls of the study bulged and unraveled, molecules of wood unzipping as smoothly as carpet fiber. A solid battering ram of air struck the other four mutants and cast them each in different directions, dumping them throughout the neighborhood, to the astonishment of some of the neighbors, who—because events had happened so unimaginably fast—were only now coming to realize that the area was being torn apart.

The remainder of the Grey house hung suspended for the better part of a minute, and then crashed down, collapsing in upon itself, until all that remained was a pile of rubble and a single, slim, exhausted young woman with haunted eyes and hair the color of fresh-spilled blood.

Of Charles Xavier, there was nothing left but memories.

Charles Xavier was dead.


	24. Chapter 22: Xavier's Funeral

**Chapter 22: Xavier's Funeral**

It was a glorious day, with only a bare scattering of clouds to gentle the sun with occasional moments of shade.

One and all, though, the students thought it should be raining. Something torrential, biblical even, would be far more appropriate to how they felt.

This was the private ceremony for what Charles Xavier considered his true family, the students he had gathered and mentored over the decades, all of whom—regardless of age—were feeling more than a little bereft, like ships that had lost their moorings.

There'd been the equivalent of a town meeting. Xavier had left some instructions in his will, but the faculty felt it would be best to give the students their own voice on how to proceed. Charles had wanted to rest on the grounds, among those he loved the best. The only question that had remained was where.

The decision was made to establish a memorial in the garden, because that was always where he taught the hardest cases who came to him. He would take the offending parties and set them to work doing what was difficult for him—caring for his roses. And because he was never one to let pass such an opportunity, those sessions turned into seminars of extraordinary variety and depth. A course of instruction on how to properly transfer a plant evolved quite naturally into a discussion on the nature of structure and balance, and how natural selection was affected by human engineering, which in turn led to philosophy and a measure of history. And since he'd never let anyone get away with just spouting a position—oh no, they'd had to buttress it with citations going back, invariably, to the dawn of writing—that would often lead to a course in Latin or Greek or who knows what else. The deeper into this seemingly makeshift curriculum one went, the harder one wanted to work. A lesson learned, a life saved, roots put down—and not just for the rose.

He had an infectious love of learning, and a respect for knowledge that inspired the same in those around him.

Losing that, for these people, was like stealing the sun from their sky.

There were two stones, the greater cenotaph as tall as Xavier himself, emblazoned with a bas-relief of his face in profile, along with his name and the words father * mentor * teacher. Beside it was a second pillar, slightly smaller, bearing Scott's name and a small epitaph inscribed by his own cousin, by Buffy herself.

The air was very still—Ororo had seen to that—yet the temperature was quite comfortable. Each breath brought them the rich and varied fragrances of the garden, and their ears were touched from time to time by the buzz of honeybees and the occasional trill of birdsong from the surrounding trees. Farther off in the distance could be heard the keen of a hawk, calling for its mate.

Only two were painfully conspicuous in their absence: Jean Grey and Logan. Logan, Buffy and Ororo had not spoken of the events at the Grey household beyond the fact that the professor had been lost during a confrontation with Magneto, and at the moment they were content to let the blame fall entirely on him. But Jean's manifestation of power had sent ripples through the aether that were felt by every student in the school with even a smidgen of psychic awareness. Storm had to admit, when talking about it alone with Hank, that Jean's actions had likely been sensed by damn near every psi on the _planet_! In a school full of active, inquiring minds, encouraged to think outside the box, it wasn't long before the kids began putting together the pieces and drawing disturbingly accurate conclusions. So, now, they weren't just shaken by the loss of the man who'd recruited every one of them, who'd been their guiding light as they'd explored this strange new world of their powers; they also had to deal with the inescapable fact that one of their own—perhaps the most powerful of them, as well as the member of the staff who was second only to Xavier himself as a nurturing parental figure—had gone rogue.

Nobody had to ask where Logan had gone. The only questions were what he'd do when he found her, and whether or not _he'd _come back.

Ororo strode to a space on the grass just in front of Xavier's stone, and took a moment to compose herself—and in that moment she inadvertently allowed all present to see and understand why during her youth in Africa she'd been considered a goddess.

"We live in an age of darkness," she began. "A world of fear and anger, hatred and intolerance."

Messages of sympathy had come, not only from President Cockrum but from his predecessor, who'd laid the groundwork for all the advances in mutant-sapien relations since. A discreet video feed had been established that allowed these proceedings to be viewed from the Oval Office.

"For most of us," Ororo said, "this is the way things are and always will be. Some maintain it is hardwired into so called human nature. But in every age there are those who fight against it."

The news had been a body blow. None of the students had needed to be told that the professor was gone. They'd felt his passing the moment it happened—in class, in dorm rooms; everywhere on the great, sprawling campus—as shocking and undeniable as a blow to the gut. And yet—though the initial reaction of many was tears—discussion after the fact revealed that the predominant emotion, what they'd actually _felt _from Xavier, wasn't pain or anger or sadness. Quite the opposite: they'd been aware of a fierce hunger to see what lay over the next horizon, an eagerness to embark on this wonderful new adventure. They felt a sense of grace and peace—and, strangest of all, they felt joy.

"Moses, who led his people out of slavery but never reached the Promised Land himself. Abraham Lincoln, who saved the Union and freed the slaves, but never lived to see his country at peace. Franklin Roosevelt, who led America through the Great Depression and the Second World War, yet died before the final victory. John Kennedy and Robert Kennedy, struck down cruelly before their time, their promise unfulfilled."

"Martin Luther King Jr. who fought for equal rights but was struck down by an assassin's bullet. It wasn't something they asked to do. They were chosen. And he was chosen, too."

"Charles Xavier was born into a world divided. A world he tried to heal. It was a mission he never saw accomplished."

Buffy sat at the end of the front row beside Rogue. Neither she nor Rogue were shy about their tears. Seeking comfort, Buffy reached for Rogue's hand.

Rogue looked over at Buffy and then took her lover's hand and squeezed gently and comfortingly.

"But Xavier's teachings live on with us, his students. Wherever we may go, we must carry on his vision. The vision of a world united."

That was it. One by one, led by Buffy and Rogue, each of them walked to the cenotaph for a moment alone, to say their own farewells, and leave a long stemmed rose at its base. Buffy stopped next to Scott's cenotaph and knelt there. Every single day since her return from the Grey house she had left a rose at its base. If it hadn't been for Rogue, Buffy was sure her own grief would have consumed her.

That night, some of them still found it impossible to sleep.

Rogue stood at the window as she watched Bobby and Kitty outside. Behind her in bed was Buffy crying. She turned and sat on Buffy's bed next to her lover and she brushed Buffy's hair comfortingly.

"So what now?" asked Bobby Drake. It was the morning following Xavier's memorial. A bunch of kids had gathered in one of the common rooms after breakfast, to be joined by Storm and Hank McCoy and ultimately—to a smile of warm relief from Ororo that wasn't returned—by Logan. "What do we do?"

Ororo shrugged. "I don't know, Bobby."

Hank spoke up, reluctantly, the doctor delivering the worst of news—news that seemed to be just about what everyone was expecting. "Charles Xavier founded this school," he said. "Perhaps it should end with him?"

Ororo didn't comment, but Kitty gave a shallow nod. "We should start calling parents," she suggested.

"What?" Bobby sounded outraged, not only at the motion on the table, but also by who it was coming from.

"She's right, Robert," Hank said. "We should tell the students they're going home."

"Most of us," Peter Rasputin reminded him, "don't _have _anywhere to go."

Bobby shot to his feet. "I can't believe this! I can't believe we're not going to fight for this place!"

"Charley's dead, kid," Logan said, he had returned late that afternoon after having found Jean. "The professor is dead."

"So _what_?" Bobby said, angrily.

"There is no school," Logan explained patiently, although it was clear to Hank that what he wanted far more was a session of unrestricted berserker mayhem. "There is no choice."

"There's _always _a choice!" Bobby threw his own words back at him, and then, rushing onwards: "But what do you care? This was never your home!"

Logan looked ready to reply, but instead turned to face the doorway.

Facing them was an angel.

"I'm sorry," Warren said, picking up on the vibe. "I know this is a bad time…" His body language and manner told them that he fully expected to make things worse.

"My name is Warren Worthington," he introduced himself, then with a shy, self-deprecating smile added, "the third."

Everyone knew the name. Warren plunged ahead regardless.

"I was told this was a safe place for mutants."

"It was, son," answered Hank.

"No, Henry," snapped Ororo. "It _is._"

With a long and even stride, every step proclaiming the rightness of her decision, Ororo crossed the room to the doorway leading to Xavier's study.

"Bobby," she told him as she passed, "show Mr. Worthington to a room."

She threw open the door and entered, with the rest of them following—curious, expectant, impressed, outraged—like fish caught in her net, to behold her taking her place behind the desk, as though it were hers and always had been.

"And tell all the students the school will remain open."

Hank watched her look past the assemblage to Logan, who hadn't made a move.

"This _is _our home," she told them all, but her words were mainly meant for him. "And as long as I'm here, this will be a safe haven for mutants."

There were smiles all around—even from Hank—and a muffled chorus of "Aw-_riiight_!"

"Outstanding!"

"Way to go, 'Ro!"

From Logan, though, not a word, not even a nod.

Ororo had made her decision. He made his. He left.

Logan walked through the mansion until he found the room he was looking for and knocked. Xander opened the door and they stood there for a moment before Logan asked if he could come in.

"So," Xander said after a few minutes of silence.

"Do you remember your mother?" Logan asked.

"Yeah …" Xander said.

"Because I don't," Logan said and sighed. There was no other way to say but just … "Chuck told me, your my son."

"But …" Xander said.

Logan flexed his hands and then popped his claws. "You never wondered where yours came from?"

Xander looked down at his hands and then looked up at Logan. "But how? Did my parents adopt me? Have they lied to me my whole life?"

"I don't know," Logan said. "I promise you this we'll find out together. But know this, since I didn't know about you till now. That means I still technically have parental rights. Chuck was going to help me in establishing my claim. I don't know if that is still possible without him. The reason I am telling you this, now. I'm going to look for Jean. When I come back …"

Xander nodded.

Elsewhere Bobby knocked on Buffy and Rogue's door. "Rogue? Buffy?" There was no answer so he tried again. "Marie? Buffy?" He swung the door open and found the room empty.

"Petey?" Bobby asked as Peter walked past. "Where's Buffy and Rogue?"

"Gone," he said.

"What do you mean, gone?" Bobby asked.

Peter shrugged. "They both left."


	25. Chapter 23: Buffy and Rogue in New York

**Author's Note: **Folks I am getting tired of being asked the same thing again and again. The movies are following and I guess to a little bit rehashing canon for a reason. How do the events of the movies affect Buffy when she returns to Sunnydale. She has already lost three people; Scott who is Buffy's cousin and best friend, Xavier who is a mentor, and Jean who is a friend. How do these events affect her? Then there is Rogue, who is also a Slayer. How will she affect events in Sunnydale. Will Buffy or Rogue die when they face the Master now? If not what happens to Kendra and Faith? Especially Faith, will she now die at the hands of Kakistos, because she might not be a Slayer? I am sure you all can come up with even more questions on how things changed simply because Buffy was not in L.A. to kill Lothos.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Buffy and Rogue in New York**

Some folks called it Mutie Town. Some smart-ass in the city bureaucracy slapped on the label District X. Back in the day—which in this instance was a century and a half ago—Manhattan's Lower East Side had been the tenement home to successive waves of immigrants to America's shores, starting with the Irish, then the Italians, the Jews, all the polyglot variations of country and culture in Middle Europe, followed by the Chinese and most lately, the rest of Southeast Asia. The joke in the Big Apple was that you could stroll from the Williamsburg to the Manhattan Bridge and encounter the world in small, every nationality and ethnic group currently extant upon the globe. And probably a fair sampling of the ancient ones as well. It was _that _kind of city.

The newest to arrive sort of broke the mold, in that these folks were substantially homegrown. Here, among the mean streets and hardcore neighborhoods the city would rather forget, mutants gathered to make their home. And like every immigrant group that preceded them, once established they'd begun to extend their influence beyond those initial, confining boundaries, agitating over time for the same services and respect accorded everyone else.

True, they lived in a ghetto, but they also believed acceptance was only a matter of time.

Here, in the media capital of the world, Warren Worthington Sr. and Kavita Rao had established their first clinic, promising an instant escape from years of struggle and hardship, offering the chance for mutants to rejoin the rest of humanity.

Buffy and Rogue had waited online all night to reach the clinic. They'd filled out all the proper forms and been assigned a place in the waiting room. And that was how they spent their day, from that point on: sitting, watching those around them, and waiting. Same as them.

Some of the mutants appeared excited, others conflicted. The first time they called a name, it was for a session with a counselor, who outlined the nature of the procedure, the potential ramifications. For example, special care had to be taken with those mutants whose life processes involved toxic substances or harmful environments. Reverting someone with gills without the means of yanking them out of the water, pronto, was a nonstarter. Likewise a mutant with sulfuric acid for blood. If you existed in multiple dimensions, how can you be sure you'll end up in the right one?

The other aspect the counselor hammered home, returning to it again and again, was the fact that you couldn't change your mind. Once applied, the reversion couldn't be undone. You make the choice, you're stuck with the consequences. Being a mutant, that was fate's fault, or nature's, or God's; you could vent against those higher powers all you pleased. The cure, however, was all on you.

That's why no adolescents were being allowed to participate in these initial trials. Accepting the legal arguments put forth by attorney Vange Whedon (herself a mutant, able to morph into a dragon), head of the Mutant Rights Coalition, the feds had conceded this was too big and absolute a decision to be made _for _someone, even by loving parents wanting only the best for their children. Buffy and Rogue had of course lied about their ages.

Buffy and Rogue had done their sessions separately earlier that morning. It had been mandated so that the counselor could be ensured that no one was influencing anyone else. Then they returned to their seats, and patiently continued to wait their turns.

The longer they waited, the more they wondered if they were doing the right thing. They thought of all they'd done with the X-Men. And they thought about the bond the Slayer had created. Would it still be there? Even worse yet was their love for each other. Would it suddenly disappear once they had the cure?

Buffy and Rogue looked at each other and knew what they shared was real. And they wondered would the cure be for the best?

The inner door opened and a couple emerged. They'd been a mixed pair—he a mutant, she not. Now, they were just a couple, very much in love, holding each other, cooing endearments, touching, stroking, marveling at this catalogue of new sensations that made them perpetually giddy.

The nurse overseeing the line consulted her clipboard and read off the next name.

"Marie D'Ancanto," she called.

Buffy moved to stand and noticed Rogue didn't. ~Marie, she called your name.~

Rogue looked up at Buffy and then at the nurse. She got up and raised her hand, and with the other took Buffy's. They then gathered their gear and stepped through the indicated doorway.

As they followed the nurse down the hall they looked at each other questioning if they were doing the right thing.

"I …" Marie said. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"Are you sure, Marie?" Buffy asked as Marie nodded.

Buffy nodded and looked to the nurse. "Thank you for your time. But we changed our minds."

The nurse looked at Buffy and Rogue and nodded in understanding. "I could see it when you two walked through the door hand in hand. You two are very much in love. I hope for your sake this is what you both want."

"It is," Rogue said. "As long as Buffy and I can touch each other. That's all that really matters."

Two days later Rogue and Buffy were in the D'Ancanto home in Meridian, Mississippi. Rogue was explaining to them what had happened over the months since she had left home.

The D'Ancanto's agreed that whatever happened that it would be best for Rogue to be emancipated. So that she could go where she needed to go to learn and control her powers. For they knew if she stayed they would never be able to touch her again.


	26. Chapter 24: Return of Rogue and Buffy

**Chapter 24: Return of Rogue and Buffy**

A crowd waited at the entrance to the hanger: Willow, Xander, Bobby, Kitty, Peter, Warren, even Hank. Ororo was a bit behind, waiting by the _Blackbird._

Logan rolled his shoulders, trying to settle his uniform more comfortably. He preferred not to wear it, so it had never been broken in. Not like Ororo's, which felt like kid gloves. The others were all suited up as well. Bobby was grinning. "Remember how you told Bobby our uniforms were on order? Well, guess what just came in the mail!

"We're coming with," Xander announced.

Logan snorted, his way of telling them in no uncertain terms, _The _hell _you are!_

"We trained for this," Peter Rasputin said, backing up his friend.

"We're ready," Kitty added.

"Best offense is a good defense, right?" Ororo smiled from the plane, clearly enjoying every moment of Logan's comeuppance.

Warren stepped forward, visibly shy but refusing to give in to his fear. "They say Magneto's going after my father," he said, his voice shaking as much with outrage as nerve. "My _father_! He may be wrong, sir, but he's not evil. I'm not going to leave him out there alone."

Serious now, Ororo added to what Angel said, "This is our fight, Logan. Not just yours."

Logan sighed. He didn't want them to learn the realities of his life this way, especially not his own son. "This isn't gonna be like class," he told them, looking one after the other in the eye, hoping they could see on his face, in his own eyes, what he was talking about, "or the Danger Room. It's gonna be real battle. With blood and tears … and death."

He looked at them and even if they thought they understood what he was talking about, they had no proper frame of reference. Hell, deep down inside, they _knew _they'd live forever; that's why armies preferred their recruits young.

Things like this could only be learned the hard way. It was a part of life that mirrored Worthington's cure, in that once you crossed this Rubicon, you could never go back. What you saw, what you did, would stay with you forever.

"As much as we've lost in the last few days, that's nothing compared to what's on the line."

Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked.

"We get on that plane, we're not students and teachers anymore. We're not kids and grown-ups. We're soldiers."

"We're X-Men," Xander corrected. "All of us, dad."

Logan noted Willow's shocked expression. Xander had obviously not told her yet. He smiled at his son's best friend. He then gestured to the _Blackbird. _"Get in, then. Let's go."

Just then Logan scented them, even though they hung back out of sight in the hallway. They weren't trying to hide from him—they knew better—just from the others aboard the plane.

"You almost missed the flight, darlins'," Logan told Buffy and Rogue, rounding the corner to join them. "C'mon, get suited up, we're on a clock here."

Rogue shook her head. "No, Logan, I'm not goin'."

Logan looked at Buffy and Rogue and noted their hands were still gloved.

Buffy and Rogue smiled, like they'd lost something precious.

"We couldn't go through with it," Buffy told him with a shake of her head.

"So," he prompted, suggesting with the gesture that they head into the hangar.

"You don't know what it's like, Logan, to be afraid of your powers … afraid to get close to anyone … to know you can never go home again—" Rogue said.

Logan held up his right hand. "Yeah, Marie," he told them very quietly. "I do."

"No," Buffy protested, "you don't. You can control your power. We can control our shared cognitive powers, but our powers to absorb memories, life force, mutant powers—that we can't."

"Dad," they heard Xander call from the hangar. "Aren't we in a hurry?"

Buffy smiled, Logan had finally told him. "But Marie and I can't run away, either," she finished.

"Buffy and I thought that was the answer then"— Rogue said as she looked at Buffy. "But now …"

"Controlling the powers has nothing to do with bein' afraid," Logan said. "Of the powers themselves, of getting close to someone, or never going home. If it matters, you two find a way. If this doesn't work for either of you, find something better."

"We're working on it," Buffy said as she leaned up close to his cheek, sparing him a kiss so fleeting that he barely felt the thrill of their shared gift grabbing for his, yet he'd never experienced anything more heartfelt.

"So I see," he agreed, and added, "They're a smart and sneaky bunch here, Buffy, Marie. Give 'em a decent chance to prove it. Throw 'em a challenge."

Buffy looked to Rogue who nodded, knowing that Buffy had one thing more to do. Find her answers. "I'll go get changed."

"I'll tell 'Ro that you two are coming."

"We're both not comin'." Rogue said as Buffy walked into the locker room. "First off someone's gotta look after the kids, don't you think? Wouldn't be the first time Magneto's faked us out."

"Figure you can handle trouble, if it comes?" Logan asked.

Rogue tossed him a look she had to have learned from him. "Ain't that what Rogues do best, sugar?" Rogue said and then she smiled as she finally accepted what she had become. "Besides … I'm a Slayer."

"That's my girl" Logan said as Buffy exited the locker room.

"Always. Hey," she called as Logan and Buffy headed for the _Blackbird, _"you go kick the Bad Guy's butt, Mister!" He nodded, but she wasn't done with him just yet. "And you make sure you find a way to save the girl and that Buffy gets her answers, hear?" he nodded again. "Oh and one more thing. You look after my baby. If anything happens to her. You will answer to me, bub."

"Best shovel speech I think I ever heard," Buffy said with a laugh.

Logan looked between Buffy and Rogue and smiled. He could see it in their eyes that they loved each other more than anything and that was the real reason neither of them had taken the cure. It no longer mattered to Buffy or Rogue if they could touch anyone else as long as they could touch each other.

Logan tossed Rogue a farewell salute as he and Buffy headed for the plane. And within the minute, as Rogue pulled her leather uniform from its locker, the complex shook with the rumble of the _Blackbird_'s huge engines, quickly fading to silence as the plane rose into the air and sped away.

All the lockers around her were empty, all of the X-Men were gone. She didn't mind being alone, but she'd count the seconds until their safe return, until Buffy's safe return. ~I love you,~ she projected towards her lover.

~And I love you, Marie.~


	27. Chapter 25: Alcatraz

**Chapter 25: Alcatraz**

Everyone crowded the flight deck for a view of the bridge as Ororo brought the _Blackbird _over the bay in a wide, sweeping turn that allowed them all to see what was happening.

"Oh my stars and garters," Hank murmured from his station which displayed local news channels, which currently focused on Magneto and Alcatraz Island.

"We're being painted, TraCon Doppler radar from Oakland and San Francisco International," Kitty said where she sat looking at the radar. "But—I'm getting some Q-band activity, high range, reads as an E2C Hawkeye AWACS off the _Teddy Roosevelt, _establishing a target portrait for possible air strikes."

Ororo tapped a code into the center control console, between her and Kitty. "Going to stealth mode."

From outside, the great black aircraft, already difficult to see in the gathering darkness, shimmered and then vanished, both to the naked eye and to all forms of electronic detection.

"On your toes, people," Ororo said quietly. "Everyone back to your places and strap in. Buffy, Henry, Kitty," she added, "we're depending on you three now. This airspace is likely to get more than a little bit crowded and since we can't be seen, we can't be evaded. It's up to you three to keep us from any collisions."

"A circumstance most devoutly to be avoided, ma'am," Kitty said.

Buffy nodded in agreement as she let her cognitive power kick in and her eyes clouded over.

Moments later they had landed and disembarked as Storm announced their arrival with lightning, a bolt powerful enough to illuminate the island bright as day, dazzling those who saw it almost to the point of blindness and opening a crater in the ground.

In quick succession came three more, bracketing Magneto's cadre of mutants on all sides as Storm streaked into view from a point only Magneto could perceive atop the main building of the prison.

While this was happening, in those precious seconds that their adversaries were reeling from Storm's assault, the X-Men took the field.

Hank leapt impossibly from roof to wall to roof to wall to wall, bouncing effortlessly back and forth as he made his way to a landing in the yard.

Peter Rasputin, who held Buffy in his arms, simply dropped, full metal body, like a solid steel rock—despite the risk that represented against the powers of Magneto—to make a nifty crater of his own. He gently set down Buffy as she removed her gloves.

Logan slid down the face of the building, using his claws to thrust into the masonry wall and slow his descent.

Kitty came down with Bobby and Xander in her arms, phasing the three of them so that when they reached ground level, they simply disappeared into the earth. A moment or so later, they popped right back up, like corks on a wave.

"Don't _ever _do that again," Bobby said to Kitty.

Willow was in her tiger form and she like Hank leapt from roof to wall to roof to wall, bouncing effortlessly back and forth as she made her way to landing in the yard.

The lieutenant commanding the force on Alcatraz recognized Hank, despite his outlandish getup, and couldn't help staring. Presidential cabinet officers don't generally take the field of combat, much less clad in formfitting costumes.

"Pull back your troops, Lieutenant," Hank told him. "Let the X-men handle this."

"Sir," the lieutenant swallowed, "this is our post, sir. Nine of you, nearly a hundred of them. Those odds suck! We can help."

Hank acknowledged the offer, knowing what it meant for them to volunteer to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with mutants_. _"You've done your part and more, Lieutenant," he told the young man. "Go. Now. That's an order." He looked to Xander, Logan and Buffy who stood beside him. "Mind you given those odds, he does have a point."

Logan snorted. "Get together, people," he told them. "Side by side. Whatever comes, we hold the line. We defend this place, and the people in it, at all costs."

At Magneto's signal, his mutants charged. A phalanx of almost sixty against a line of nine.

Neither Logan nor Xander waited for them to reach him; for him the best defense was always offense.

Twenty came for Logan and Xander, and they took them down without breaking a major sweat, without even popping their claws.

Buffy and Hank were even faster in speed and reaction time. Unlike Xander and Logan, they possessed an unnatural grace that made them seem almost weightless. They both utilized their own gifts.

Hank seemed utterly at home on any surface, floor or ceiling, vertical or horizontal, stationary or mobile to move from one opponent to the next without the slightest pause.

Buffy was using a combination of Slayer, Cognitive and Imprinting as she attacked those who came at her. She caught a punch in one hand, flipped the man head over heels into the two beside him and continued on.

Forty of Magneto's crew in as many seconds. That was the score when Xander, Buffy, Hank and Logan came together, back-to-back, at skirmish's end.

"We've cut their numbers by a third," Hank crowed.

"Thought you were a pacifist," Logan growled, looking for Magneto_._

"As Churchill said, _There must come a time when all men must—_"

The second wave came, as many as the first, but much nastier to look at.

Hank shrugged. "You get the point," he said, and leapt back into the fray.

Ororo rose skyward at the same time, eyes flaring white as she gathered winds and power to her, pulling moisture from sea and air to generate a massive cloud formation just off the island's shore.

Thunder shook the rocky island, and a series of sympathetic, almost electronic _twangs, _like the plucked strings of an untuned guitar, sounded along the length of the bridge as the boom established a cascade of vibrations across the suspender cables.

In the space of a few heartbeats, Ororo ramped up her storm to better than Category Five on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale, and unleashed its full fury into the heart of the attackers, striking them with wind-driven rain that knocked some off their feet and left the rest too dazed and disoriented to cope with the storm surge that followed, a wave that rose to twice their height and swept the battlefield clean of debris and combatants.

Because of the close quarters of the combat, Ororo had to come down low to wield her weather with the necessary precision of force and placement. There were no fliers left among Magneto's troops, no sign yet of any energy casters like Pyro, so she thought her position fairly secure.

Callisto proved her wrong, demonstrating a strength and agility—and daring—that was on par with Hank and Buffy, she scrambled up one of the suspender cables and hurled herself at Storm with headlong abandon. She didn't make it as Willow leapt at her. Willow pinned Callisto to the ground and let out a ferocious growl, that made the woman beneath her cringe in fear.

Bobby found himself confronted by a behemoth who called himself Phat for reasons that were grossly obvious. The files held in the Mansion mentioned a mutant who worked in a carnival, with a similar physique, who called himself the Blob, but Fred J. Dukes was a matinee idol compared to this guy. Phat's footsteps set off tremors through the rock and threatened to bring down whatever walls of the barracks still remained upright. He tried freezing the ground to upend him, but Phat was so massive that the ice merely shattered underfoot.

Fortunately, he was no speed demon, and Bobby had little trouble ducking and dodging his grabs. There wasn't a whole lot of wiggle room and the fight around them was devolving into a madcap melee.

None of the X-Men could afford to devote themselves overlong to a single adversary, for fear of becoming vulnerable to someone else. Desperation produced inspiration and, instead of a sheet of ice, Bobby chose to form a pillar instead, to enfold the other man. This way, except perhaps by tripping, Phat couldn't bring his weight effectively to bear. And if he should manage to fall, Bobby was determined to build an ice mountain on top of him, to make sure he wouldn't soon get up. Phat still managed two or three more steps before the ice locked him in place. Despite Bobby's efforts, he was still struggling and Bobby knew that if he eased off, even a little, the other mutant would quickly break free.

Then Colossus was there, landing a single punch to Phat's jaw that broke the foot-thick encasement of ice as if it were nothing, and _still _connected with power enough to shatter the mutant's consciousness before he hit the ground.

The big Russian turned at once to aid Kitty, who really didn't need it against a woman with an axe. Time and again, the woman slashed her blade through the girl's ghostly body without doing the slightest harm, while Kitty bobbed and weaved and backpedaled until she came within Peter's reach.

A single backhand, not even full force, knocked the woman twenty feet and out of the fight.

There were a couple of quick glances from side to side and the briefest exchange of smiles back to Logan, who acknowledged that they were doing well.

At Logan's signal to the lieutenant, the soldiers moved onto the scene, taking the fallen mutants into custody.

Up on the bridge, Pyro glared across the way at Bobby, chomping at the bit to confront his former roommate.

Magneto would have none of it.

"Not yet," he said to the young man, in a tone that allowed neither argument nor defiance. "Stay by my side."

Instead, Magneto turned to the Juggernaut.

"Mr. Marko," he called out. "You have the coordinates from Callisto. The boy we seek is in the main cell house."

He pointed to the very top of the Rock. "Up there. Get inside. Find the boy. Kill him."

Juggernaut dropped his head, angling his torso forward as best he could so that his conical helmet appeared a bit like a massive cannon shell plowing through the air. The sloping roadway allowed him to build up a decent amount of speed, and he was fairly confident that nothing below would be able to even slow him down, much less bring him to a halt.

Buffy frowned as her eyes clouded over and she saw Juggernaut reaching the boy. She turned and ran towards Kitty as she slipped on a glove seconds before she grabbed Kitty's hand. "Come on we have to reach the boy first before Juggernaut does."

Juggernaut couldn't be stopped. Neither could Kitty and Buffy—only they were a lot less messy about it. Kitty and Buffy phased straight into the body of the rocky island, and the hill that formed the foundation of the cell house.

Warren Worthington Jr., gun in hand, and Kavita Rao were running for their lives, and for the future. "We need…to get…the boy," Worthington spat out between gasps.

Not so far away, and coming closer, he could hear a series of hollow _booms, _followed by the _shush _of collapsing masonry; it made him think someone was taking a wrecking ball to the building. Didn't much like the sound of that.

_"There he is," _came a shout from a gallery overhead.

Before they could move, find an escape, bring the gun to bear, the mutants were upon them, led by Kid Omega.

Kavita shrieked in reflexive terror as the three mutants—Psylocke, Arclight, and Kid Omega—surrounded them.

"You're the guy that invented the 'cure,' am I right?" the female known as Psylocke demanded.

Worthington faced her, surprised to discover that while he was scared almost out of his mind, it didn't really show.

Outwardly, he appeared altogether calm.

"Yes," he replied. "I am."

"That's what I thought," she said, displaying a gorgeous smile that was filled with both mischief and menace.

"Psylocke, what about her?" asked one of the others, giving Kavita a rough shake.

"She's the brains," Psylocke said. "He's the money. Kill her."

Worthington stared at Kavita in horror, two sets of wide open eyes momentarily locking glances. He tried to reach out to her, only to find himself yanked roughly away.

Over his shoulder, he saw the other boy deploy quills across his shoulders and down his arms. A single flex of the forearm hurled a demonstration set into the neighboring wall with the force of a nail gun.

As Worthington was tossed around a corner, his captors not caring if they raised bruises or broken bones, he saw the mutant reach for Kavita and heard her last, despairing howl. Buffy and Kitty had no time to spare. They were surrounded by three mutants of their own. They went solid for them, spinning sidekicks to the face, backed by the strength of a dancer's leg, bouncing one guy into the next, shaking both up enough for them to complete the pivot and punch the third in the belly, dropping him at last with a knee to the nose.

Everyone was down but breathing. There was no time to do more because the sound of smashing walls was far too close for comfort, and their lead over the Juggernaut was perhaps a wall away from vanishing.

As if on cue, he thundered into view below, scattering chunks of masonry, bars that were more like spears, into his path as he lumbered the length of the tier.

Saving grace—the boy he was after wasn't on the ground floor.

Up he came, without slackening pace, each step bowing the metal stairs as if they were tin, while Kitty and Buffy sprinted along the gallery to catch him.

Kitty phased him with her and Buffy, so that his next step—instead of landing solidly on the metal grating—plunged right through. She'd meant to leave him there, dangling from his midsection, deck and body inextricably merged until they came back to pull him free, but he proved quicker and more on the ball than they'd anticipated.

The instant he sensed the unique tingling that came from her nervous system interrupting his, he slammed his great hands down on the gallery with force enough to tear this entire section loose from its mountings and pitch himself, Buffy and Kitty to the main floor below.

They landed close enough together for him to make another grab at the girls, which failed as Kitty went reflexively ghost causing Buffy to ghost with her—only to discover that was precisely what he wanted, as he used that momentary intangibility to wrench himself free of the deck grating.

Not only quick, but cunning. And now, really pissed off.

Buffy and Kitty bolted. As hoped for, he followed. They couldn't give the others an update; one of the major repercussions of Kitty's power was that it shorted out any electric circuit she passed through. Total murder on circuit boards, which was appropriately ironic for a natural gearhead. Advantage, she could neutralize surveillance systems, electronic locks, even people, with just the right touch. Problem, put a radio on her, it died.

So Buffy and Kitty couldn't call for help, which meant they were on their own. It was then that Buffy had wished Rogue had been there. She could have used her telepathic link to keep in contact with the rest of the team.

They reached a wholly refurbished section of the prison that managed to make the great, gray edifice look quite comfortable. Fresh paint, modern furniture, total climate control; it reminded them both of the wealthy of days gone by who transported stately manors or castles—or London Bridge—from Europe to rebuild them brick by brick over here. In this case, if they hadn't known better Buffy and Kitty would have figured they were standing in any top-flight lab in the world.

The floor trembled, the echo of collapsing walls reached them, and they were galvanized into action. They'd lost her lead again.

Kitty phased with Buffy through the nearest doorway, then raced from room to room, assuming that sooner or later they'd get lucky.

_Figures. _The room they wanted was the last, at the end of the hall, with a spectacular corner view of the now-empty straits. The boy was huddled under the bed, clutching a stuffed animal that was almost as big as he was to his chest.

They really didn't have the time, but they spared him their most reassuring smile anyway.

"I'm Kitty," she said, holding out a hand. "And this is Buffy." Another crash. Wouldn't be much longer. "We're a couple of the X-Men. We're the good guys."

"I know," he said, "I've seen you on TV. I'm Jimmy," he continued. "But they call me Leech."

"What's happening?" he asked, terrified through and through.

"We'll tell you later," Buffy said, motioning him towards them.

"Right now, Jimmy, we've got to get you out of here." Kitty said.

She caught his hand and yanked him and Buffy towards the nearest wall.

Major mistake. Kitty led with her head and for a moment, as stars did a fandango across her mind's eye, she thought she'd broken it for sure. Cracked it wide, just like Zeus, only instead of Athena springing forth full grown, she was losing brain cells by the multitude.

Damnation—the shock actually made her cry.

"What _happened_?" Kitty yowled, pressing the heel of her free hand to her battered forehead.

"You forgot to phase!" Buffy said.

"Your powers won't work around me. That's _my _power."

Buffy couldn't help grinning: "Marie's just gonna _love _you," she told him. "And so do I a little." With him there she could touch anyone she wanted. Problem was she had lost her precognitive abilities as well. Luckily though her Slayer abilities were mystical not mutation and so were unaffected.

Enter Juggernaut, beyond rage.

"Come over here," Kitty said loudly to Jimmy, making a show of putting him behind her and Buffy, flat against the wall. They all looked trapped.

Jimmy dropped to his seat on the floor, staring through Kitty's legs at the man-mountain who faced them.

Juggernaut savored the moment.

"Three for the price of one," he growled delightedly, forgetting that Kitty could always phase herself to safety. Or perhaps assuming that maybe she'd run out of gas, that she couldn't play the ghost any longer. Or maybe she was staying solid to protect the brat and Buffy.

The reason didn't matter to Juggernaut, only the result, which in this case would mean blood—theirs.

He dropped his head to ramming position seconds before something roared behind him. And that was when Buffy and Kitty saw Willow behind him. He turned just as Willow leapt on him driving him backwards into the wall with a resounding crunch. Juggernaut fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Willow, stay back," Buffy said as Willow turned towards Buffy, Jimmy and Kitty. "Jimmy's power will negate yours."

Whether Willow understood or not in tiger form, they weren't sure. But back off she did as Kitty gathered Jimmy close against her and shoved him past Willow and out the door. Willow and Buffy followed a few feet behind.

Moments later Willow, Buffy, Jimmy and Kitty emerged from the cell house. Waving off the other X-Men, Willow, Buffy and Kitty made a beeline for the bridge, pausing as they did to inform the army lieutenant about Juggernaut lying unconscious in Jimmy's cell.

Given the situation, they doubted anyone was going to go collect him.

Bobby approached the lieutenant with John slung in a fireman's carry over his shoulders.

Xander and Colossus scooped up as many of Magneto's fallen fighters as they could carry, passing them off to troopers as they established a rough line through the ruins and up the ramp.

Twenty meters away, bursts of power fell from Jean with increasing strength and frequency, creating what could only be described as _tears _in the fabric of the universe.

Magneto, whose training and research in the fields of subatomic physics were rivaled only by his erstwhile ability to manipulate the forces found there, shook his head in wonderment and utter weariness. He was spent in soul, far more than he ever had been in the flesh, more so even than at Auschwitz. He had only one moment in his life to measure against this one, the death of his beloved firstborn, his only child, his Anya, and the horror he had seen in the eyes of his wife, Magda, whom he'd saved from the camps but who could not bear to look at him, stay with him, once she'd beheld the vengeance he'd taken against those who'd kept him from saving his daughter.

"What have I done?" he breathed.

"More to the point," Logan demanded of him, "what's _she _doing?"

"Discorporating the planet," was the reply. "Stripping existence around her down to its primal component states."

"Why?"

Magneto snorted. "Because she can."

"Your rationale, bub."

"It's what Charles understood that I didn't: the true meaning of the _next _step in evolution. For us, for all our powers, we're talking little more than baby steps; for her, seven league boots. I don't believe she can handle the transition."

"Time for you to go," Logan told him.

"I'd like to stay."

"For this," Logan's voice was brutal, "you lost the right."

"I'm sorry," Magneto told him.

"Yeah."

A trooper grabbed Magneto's arms and hustled him up the ramp to be swallowed by the fleeing crowd.

Logan then turned towards Jean.

"It's not Jean," Ororo cried out to him as she tried to pull Logan away from his intended target. He didn't bother telling her she was wrong. "Not anymore. Nothing can stop her, Logan. _Nothing!_"

He looked at her and quirked his mouth into a semblance of a smile, as from a man about to embrace the Gorgon in its lair. "I'm the only one who can get close."

She didn't need to ask what would happen next. Instead she let her eyes reveal her heart and leapt quickly aloft before her tears could betray her. No matter how tonight ended, if they lived to see the dawn, they would lose something supremely precious. "What do you want me to tell Xander?"

"If I live, nothing," Logan said. "If I don't. That I love him."

Ororo nodded as she made her way towards Buffy and the ramp.

Buffy looked at Jean from where she stood at the base of the ramp. She realized in that one moment who had killed Scott. It was not Jean, Ororo was right about that. It was the Phoenix. But Buffy knew if anyone could reach Jean it was Logan. "Tell Jean I forgive her," she yelled to Logan.

Logan looked to Buffy and nodded. In those few words he understood that Buffy had come to the answers she had sought. "I will darlin'," he yelled back.

His insides churned as Logan turned back to face Jean.

He knew that he was being bombarded by lethal levels of radiation. Wasn't on purpose, he knew that as well, she was broadcasting energies like a star coming into being.

That insight wasn't something he'd think of—the flavor of it was purely Jean and it gave him a breath of hope. If she could still reach him on that kind of deep subconscious level, he could find a way to pull her all the way back.

"I hear you, darlin'," he said, and took his first step, "I know you're still there."

The ground was coming apart. It wasn't a case of rock being shattered to dust and the dust dissolving, she was shredding the component molecules, manipulating the states of existence so that what was solid and opaque one instant became utterly transparent the next, allowing him to see straight down to the core of the world. The patches of earth became utterly nonexistent after that, forcing him to progress in hopscotch fashion, following his instincts—which in turn followed cues he grew increasingly certain came from Jean herself—towards his goal.

Jean turned to him and his own molecules began discorporating, his skin literally (painlessly, thank God) boiling away. The adamantium was partly what saved him, because it possessed the tightest molecular binding of any substance conceivable. Given time and will, she could deconstruct it the way she was shredding everything else, but right now her mind was focused on greater things.

The metal provided an anchor for his physical being and at the same time, the outrush of power from her acted as an amplifier for his own abilities. He hadn't seen Scott die, but he like Buffy could now guess what happened. She amplified his optic blasts, so much that he damn near shattered an entire mountain, but all that really did was complete the energy loop back to her. Blasting at her actually made her stronger, and meanwhile Scott had no defense against the discorporation process. Same with Xavier. His telepathy must have been heightened to an unimaginable extent, but even if it put him on a level above her, he could not match her telekinetic powers and he couldn't repair the damage she was doing to him.

Logan, of course, was another critter altogether.

The harder she hit him, the more efficiently his body healed. She couldn't kill him, only make him stronger. If she really wanted him gone, there were ways to accomplish it.

Throw him away for instance; he had no doubt, at her level, she could put him into orbit with a thought. If he was still here, it was for a reason.

He loved her. He wasn't going to fail.

The buildings were going, and it came to him that he was watching in slow motion the awful and absolute annihilation that occurred at ground zero of a thermonuclear blast.

He went blind as his eyes melted, could see again an instant later, the process speeding up to such an extent that obliteration and reconstruction became virtually instantaneous processes. He reached for her, his arm stripped to bare gleaming bone, the great claws visible and quiescent in their housings.

The linkages were intact. Careless of her not to sever them.

He had no lungs to breathe with, no heart to beat, no blood to pump, no body to sustain. He was little more than artificial frame, the ghost of a nervous system, an agglomeration of self and will within the bunker of his unbreachable skull. Yet he would not fall. He would not stop.

She turned those monster onyx eyes on him and there was no recognition of him to be seen in them.

"You would die for them?" Her voice resounded in his soul. If he'd had a body the effect would have left him gasping, face-to-face at last with the truth of the ancient understanding that angels are as terrible to behold as they are beautiful.

"Not for them."

She started to smile, preening satisfaction, thinking she'd found the flaw in him that would allow her to discard him once and for all.

"For _you_!"

He didn't merely say that with words. He couldn't. No face, no tongue, no lungs, no anything. She was a telepath. He gave her his thoughts. But of course, because she was a telepath, she got much, much more than words.

He loved her, had from the first; he gave her that, too, and all it meant for him. Life had been a simple thing for Logan before Jean Grey. He did as he pleased, took what he wanted, didn't consider the consequences or repercussions. Nobody had ever cared much for him because he made it plain he wouldn't care for them in return.

Rogue and later Buffy had been the chink in that armor, and Jean had torn it open wide, so much so that he couldn't go back to the old ways even if he wanted to. And knowing her, loving her, knowing that she loved him in return—even if she'd pledged herself to Scott—made him never want to again, no matter how much the new way hurt.

He gave her his dreams, he gave her his hopes. He understood that she could see what he likely never would, the creature he had been, and stood upright and proud to be judged against the _man _he had become.

Amidst the fire in her eyes, he saw a flash of green.

"Save me, Logan," he heard her say, and felt her hands gently cup his face and draw him close, bodies closer, lips aching to touch in a last and loving kiss.

_SNIKT!_

She spasmed against him, clutching him to her as if she could merge her essence with his and make them one coherent being. Or maybe it was a desperate attempt to gain access to his healing power. Didn't much matter because again, the adamantium got in the way. One hand, all three claws. There was no margin for error, or mercy.

"That's better," he heard her say with satisfaction, and beheld her eyes still full of fire, but stripped of the dark rage that had fueled her actions. There was the warmth he remembered, the sense of completion he felt during those fleeting times they'd shared together, the native generosity of spirit that was more than he figured anyone deserved, especially him.

"Stop selling yourself short, bub."

She smiled, that wry curl of one side of her lip that he'd always known was just for him, that marked them as kindred souls.

"Oh Logan," she breathed. He could no longer sustain her weight, his body was still too much of a mess, so down they went in a clumsy heap with her in his lap, reversing the pose of a Pietà. "Where I am, where I'm going," and she couldn't help gathering him into her thoughts, to share the moment so he wouldn't sorrow for her. He was glad his senses were still a shadow of what they should be because even that fleeting glimpse filled him with such wonder and pure, primal joy that much more would have been the end of him.

If this was but the merest taste of what Jean had tapped into, small wonder she was overwhelmed.

"Be well," he told her. "And Buffy… She forgives you."

She had no final words for him. She didn't need them. But there was something she could do with the last bit of life she still had left. She sent out a telepathic message to Buffy of just two little words. 'I'm sorry.' Those two little words spoke volumes to Buffy who smiled despite herself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** One more chapter for X3 and then we move into season one of BTVS


	28. Chapter 26: Return to the Mansion

**Chapter 26: Return to the Mansion**

When Buffy thought of Scott, or Jean, or as now, Xavier, it was as though they were still with her, their words as fresh as if they'd just been spoken, the expressions making her believe they'd only just parted and would surely be seeing one another soon. Within her they were as alive as ever, and when reality reminded her that they weren't, her response wasn't what you'd expect. She didn't feel at all sad, not anymore anyways.

A magnificent oak overlooked what was now called the Memorial Garden. When Buffy first arrived at the school she'd chosen it for her private place, a place where she could think. Later it had become her and Rogue's private place that they could get away and just be alone together.

Not far away from Buffy sat Ororo writing in a notebook. She watched as Kitty, standing nonchalantly on empty air, her easy manner wholly belied by the hooded eyes that surveyed the three markers. Buffy didn't mean to but she listened with Slayer hearing to what Kitty and Ororo said.

"I'm terrified." Ororo remarked.

"You get the big office, Headmistress," Kitty zinged quietly, "you get the headaches to go with."

"I think I liked our lives better when we were semi outlaws," Ororo said.

"Everything changes, 'Ro. Ain't evolution a bitch?" Kitty said as she air-walked down a flight of invisible steps that brought her to the three cenotaphs.

Ororo swung herself from her perch with a silent grace she'd learned when she was younger than Buffy or Kitty, training to be a Watcher.

"I miss them," Kitty said simply.

Ororo draped an arm across the girl's shoulders and pulled her close. "Me, too," she replied, her voice going briefly husky. "Every day."

Buffy moved from her spot and stepped up beside Kitty and Ororo and nodded. "So do I," she said as she laid a rose at the base of Scott's cenotaph. "I miss you, Scotty."

Ororo draped an arm around Buffy and pulled her close, making sure to only touch Buffy's clothes and not any skin. "Buffy if I may ask, what do you intend to do?"

"I don't know," Buffy said. "Probably go home. Giles said that the Hellmouth is currently unguarded."

"And what about Rogue?" Ororo asked.

"We haven't talked about it," Buffy said. "I love her and hope she will come with me. I just don't know. She after all has friends and family here."

Bells sounded throughout the great, old house, and the hallways of its lower two floors exploded with life and activity, as scores of young people made their way from class to class. The student population was double what it had been before Xavier's death, and there was a deliberate mix now of mutant and sapien, as the school began to establish a reputation not only as the world's foremost facility for the teaching and investigation of mutant abilities but as an academic institution in its own right.

Rogue found Buffy in their room, packing. "Are you going somewhere, sugar?"

"Home." Buffy said as she looked up at Rogue. "I think it's time I go home, be with my mom. Besides Giles said the Hellmouth is still unguarded. And I'm a Slayer."

"Not the only one." Rogue said.

Buffy looked to Rogue. "I know but you have a life here. Friends and family. I'm not going to ask you to go with me."

Rogue smiled and walked over to Buffy and pulled her close and kissed her passionately. "True sugar. I could stay here. But I'm in love with you. So, where you go, I go," Rogue said and kissed Buffy again. "All we really have to worry about is your mom."

Buffy nodded, "She is going to freak when she finds out I'm gay."

It was then that Buffy's eyes clouded over. She saw herself and Rogue with a teenage girl. The girl had Rogue's eyes she noticed and her hair color was halfway between her blond and Rogue's dark hair. And when the girl smiled, Buffy could tell she had her smile. She was sure that this was their daughter, she just didn't know how it was possible that she and Rogue could have a daughter together. Then she heard a name, the name of her daughter:

_Dawn Marie Summers_.

"Buffy?" Rogue said as she patiently waited. "What do you see?"

Buffy smiled at Rogue as her eyes cleared. "We will have a daughter. How we will have her together I don't know. Her hair color will be darker than mine but lighter than yours. She will have your eyes and my smile. And she will have your name for her middle name. She will be named Dawn _Marie_ Summers."

Rogue smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next chapter Welcome to the Hellmouth. Now for you naysayers that complain that nothing is changing. Welcome to the Hellmouth and The Harvest will follow canon, it is to setup the rest of the story. Mind you though there will still be changes.


	29. Chapter 27: Welcome to the Hellmouth

**Author's Note: **Okay first off. I have to be at work bright and early tomorrow morning. So I am going ahead and posting tomorrow's update now while I have time otherwise my schedule would be thrown off slightly.

Second I just want to mention Buffy and Rogue's sleeping arrangements. Yes Joyce is a little too allowing on her daughter and Rogue sleeping together in the same bed. But I looked at the long run and decided it would be easier to let them share the room now than to try and figure out where to put Dawn later.

About Dawn, a reviewer asked about bringing her in early. At this time I don't see how to bring her in earlier than season five. The problem I have is how to do the daughter angle I set up in the last chapter. I can work it into her canon creation with no problem. But right now doing that angle with an earlier arrival will be difficult and I'm not sure how to do it.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Welcome to the Hellmouth**

**_January 1997_**

Over the next week Buffy and Rogue packed and went to Sunnydale. Upon her return home Buffy introduced Rogue to her mom. She explained about being a Slayer, about being a mutant and about Rogue.

"So you two are mutants and this Slayer?" Joyce asked.

"That's right, mom," Buffy said.

"How do …" Joyce said.

Buffy smiled. "We're mutants and Slayers. I wish I could show you our shared powers," she said.

"The cognitive visions can't be seen by anyone but us," Marie said. "And our shared power to assimilate psyches, memories, the life force and mutant gifts would be detrimental for you. The first time I kissed someone, that person fell into a coma."

Buffy and Rogue stood up and moved to either side of the couch that Joyce sat on and then they lifted the couch. Joyce's eyes went wide, no normal teenage girl could do that.

"That's just one of our abilities as Slayers," Buffy said. "We can also run faster than a normal human as well."

Despite Buffy's arguments to the contrary Joyce wanted proof of the supernatural. So with Rogue ensconced beside Joyce they watched as Buffy fought and dusted a vampire.

"Do you believe now, Mrs. Summers?" Marie asked as Joyce nodded.

"That's good, mom," Buffy said. "Because now you understand why you need to leave town."

"No," Joyce said. "Buffy, to do that would wind up with me in jail and you in a foster home, possibly not even in Sunnydale. It's called abandonment. After seeing that vampire tonight, I understand why you're asking and to tell the truth if it was just me I would leave. But it's not just me and if I left I would take you with me, but you two said you can't leave. You have to stay here and protect everyone from them. Which means I have to stay also, there is no way around it."

Buffy looked to Rogue and sighed. They would have to come up with some way to ensure her mom's safety. Till then they decided to table the subject and continue their discussion.

"Mrs. Summers," Rogue said, "you think the reason I moved to Sunnydale was because I am a Slayer, correct?"

"Yes," Joyce replied with a nod of her head. "You and Buffy said you both were and were called to protect everyone here."

"That's true," Rogue said. "But that is not the only reason I came to Sunnydale."

"It isn't?" Joyce asked.

"No," Rogue said. "I moved to Sunnydale for Buffy. I'm in love with your daughter."

"And I'm in love with Marie," Buffy said.

"You mean …" Joyce said as she realized what they were saying.

"That were gay, yes," Buffy said. "Are you okay with that, mom?"

"Are you sure?" Joyce asked. "I mean a hundred percent sure?"

"Yes, mom," Buffy said. "Both Marie and I are one hundred percent sure."

Joyce nodded. "Okay, as long as she makes you happy."

Buffy smiled and briefly hugged Joyce.

Joyce then offered Rogue the spare bedroom, but Rogue graciously declined as she said she would sleep with Buffy in her room. Joyce of course had objected immediately till Buffy had said they had been living for the last year in the same dormitory room at Xavier's school and that other than kissing nothing had happened between the two of them and that they intended to wait till after they both turned 18 before doing anything else.

Across town Logan knocked on the door of the Harris' home. He waited patiently, which was a bit uncharacteristic for him. A second later Jessica Harris opened the door and her jaw dropped in surprise. "Logan?"

"Hello, Jessica," Logan said. "Why didn't you tell me about Xander?"

"I tried," Jessica said. "I called your place when I found out I was pregnant. There was never any answer. I eventually gave up. Where have you been for the last sixteen years?"

"I had amnesia," Logan said.

"How did you find out about Xander then?" Jessica asked.

"I was amongst the people that rescued our son from William Stryker," Logan said.

Jessica nodded. "I gather how you found out was based on," she motioned towards his hands.

Logan nodded. "Yes, he has them as well. But I was lucky to get to him before …" he said as his claws slid out. "Before they became like mine."

"Good," Jessica said. "That's good. Did father know that Xander was …?"

Logan looked confused for a moment and then a memory surfaced, Jessica was the daughter of William Stryker. It had been through her that he had been recruited into the program. "Too tell the truth, I don't know. I'm sure he knew about Xander's mutation. But I don't know if he knew Xander was his grandson. And given what happened to your brother."

Jessica let out a sigh. What happened to Jason had been the very reason she had went into hiding in the first place. She had not agreed with her father on lobotomizing her brother. In fact she had not agreed on his whole stance with mutants to begin with.

**_A week later at the Summers House… _**

"Buffy? Marie?"

"We're up, Mom." Buffy said.

"Don't want to be late for your first day!" Joyce called from the hallway.

"No," Buffy said. "Wouldn't want that."

Rogue shook her head as she leaned over and kissed Buffy. "You want first dibs at the shower, sugar?"

Buffy smiled and nodded as she got her clothes and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Now, you have a good time," Joyce said an hour later as she watched her daughter along with Rogue get out of the car. "I know you'll make friends right away. Think positive." She smiled before driving off.

Buffy and Rogue stood for a moment, sizing up the school. They then started in, so deep in their own world that they didn't notice Xander heading straight for them till he called out. "Buffy! Rogue!"

Buffy and Rogue turned and saw Xander and smiled as he came to a stop in front of them.

"What are you two doing here?" Xander asked. "I thought you guys were still going to Xavier's?"

"We could say the same about you," Rogue said.

"Well Willow wanted to return home," Xander said. "And I convinced dad that we should move with her."

"Logan's here?" Buffy asked as she glanced at Rogue.

"Yeah, why?" Xander asked.

"There is something we need to tell you," Buffy said. "But later."

Xander nodded. "During lunch."

Moments later Rogue and Buffy sat in the principal's office, across the desk from Mr. Flutie. He was middle-aged and overweight, slightly impressed with his own importance, they noted. As they watched him, he pulled their transcripts from a folder. "Buffy Summers," he recited. "Sophomore, late of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." He looked to Rogue. "And Marie D'Ancanto, sophomore, late of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

Before they could answer, he smiled.

"Welcome to Sunnydale," he announced. "A clean slate that's what you get here. What's past is past. We're not interested in what it says on a piece of paper. At Sunnydale we nurture the whole student. The inner student…"

Later Buffy and Rogue sat in the back of their history class, earnestly taking notes and wishing they had stopped by the library and had Giles give them their textbooks. Giles had returned to Sunnydale High in an effort to stall the Watcher's Council. The Council had told Giles that he get Buffy to the Hellmouth or they would risk a war with the mutant population and kill Buffy so that the next Potential would be called as a Slayer. So Giles had returned in an effort to stall them, luckily it had worked.

The teacher's voice droned on and on while they tried to keep up. "It's estimated that about twenty-five million people died in that one four-year span. But the fun part of the Black Plague is that it originated in Europe: How? As an early form of germ warfare. The plague was first found in Asia, and a Kipchak army actually catapulted plague-infested corpses into a Genoise trading post. Ingenious. If you look at the map on page sixty-three you can trace the spread of the disease . . ."

Everyone opened their books. A girl in the desk next to Buffy's leaned over. "Here," she said. She moved her book so Buffy could share it as Rogue moved her desk close to Buffy's so she too could share the girl's book.

"Thanks," Buffy smiled.

"And this popular plague led to what social changes?" the teacher continued.

When the bell rang at last, the girl finally introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm Cordelia."

"I'm Buffy and this is Marie," said Buffy.

"I prefer Rogue though," said Rogue.

"If you two are looking for textbooks of your very own, there's …" Cordelia said.

"In the library," Buffy said. "We know, we just haven't gotten them yet. Though now that I think about that where would it be?" Buffy asked. She wished she had remembered to ask Giles.

"I'll show you."

They walked out into the crowded hall and Cordelia glanced at Buffy with unconcealed interest.

"You transferred from Hemery, right? In L.A.?"

Buffy shook her head, "Marie and I transferred from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I transferred there from Hemery. But Marie is from Meridian, Mississippi, originally."

"Oh! I would kill to live in L.A." Cordelia said. "Being that close to that many shoes ... Why'd you both come here?"

"My mom moved here a year ago while I was at Xavier's. I wanted to finish out high school here instead of at a private school." Buffy said.

"I'm a friend of Buffy's from Xavier's." Rogue explained. "When I heard she was moving back in with her mother I decided I wanted to finish out my senior year here also and since I'm emancipated…"

"Well, you'll both be okay here," Cordelia assured them. "If you both hang with me and mine, you both will be accepted in no time. Of course, we do have to test your coolness factor. Buffy you're from L.A., so you can skip the written. I won't quiz Mar … Rogue if she's your friend you would have to rub off on her right? Anyways let's see . . . Vamp nail polish."

Buffy asked tentatively, "Over?"

"So over," Cordelia replied. "James Spader."

Buffy frowned. "I would say he needs to call me. But I don't swing that away." Cordelia looked at Buffy confused. "I'm gay. Marie is more than just a friend…"

"Oh," Cordelia said getting the connection that Rogue and Buffy were lovers. Truth be told it didn't matter to her one bit. But she of course would never say that to any of her so called friends. "Frappachinos?"

"Trendy but tasty." Buffy said.

"John Tesh."

"The Devil?" Buffy replied questioningly.

Cordelia nodded. "Well, that was pretty much a gimme, but you passed."

"Oh, good." Buffy put a hand to her heart in mock relief.

They stopped at the water fountain, where Willow was taking her turn.

"Hey, Tiger," Buffy said as she spotted Willow.

Cordelia looked to Buffy and frowned.

"Hey, Buffy," Willow said. "Xander told me you and Rogue had moved to Sunnydale."

Rogue smiled at Cordelia. "Xander and Willow went to Xavier's for a couple months."

Cordelia didn't return Rogue's smile but instead headed off leaving the three of them alone.

"I take it she thinks she's the queen bee or something?" Rogue asked.

"More or less," Willow said. "So what are you guys doing here? Is it X-Men related?"

"Yes and no," Buffy said. "We'll fill you and Xander in later. Hey where is the library. We need to pick up our books."

Willow smiled and led them to the library before heading off to her next class.

Buffy and Rogue entered the library, not in the least bit surprised at the elegance of it as it reminded them of the library at Xavier's.

There didn't seem to be anyone around. They paused beside the checkout counter, and noticed a folded newspaper lying there, an article on its first page circled in red. The headline stated _Local Boys Still Missing_, and beside it was a blurry picture of three boys.

"Looks like our first assignment." Rogue said.

Buffy nodded in agreement as they wandered farther in and peered around a bookcase.

"Giles?" Buffy called out.

Without warning Giles touched Buffy's shoulder. Startled, she spun to face him.

"Buffy." Giles said. "Marie. Getting settled in I hope."

"Very." Buffy said. "We saw the newspaper on the counter."

Giles nodded, "I'm looking into it. I will have some information for you as soon as possible. I assume you will be helping her patrol, Marie?"

Rogue nodded, "Of course I am. Or did you forget despite the tests I didn't take that we pretty much decided I am a Slayer also. Between the two of us the vamps have no chance."

"Very good. I expect a report tomorrow." Giles said.

"While we're here." Buffy said. "We were told we can get our textbooks from you."

"Of course." Giles said as they handed him their class schedules and he walked off to get the required textbooks.

Later outside in the quad Willow carefully sorted through her packed lunch. Healthy as usual. And totally boring. She was so involved that she didn't notice anyone approaching until a voice spoke behind her.

"Hey, Willow," the voice said.

Willow turned around and smiled. "Hey Rogue, Buffy," she said as Rogue and Buffy sat next to her.

"Can we ask you a favor?" Buffy asked as Willow nodded. "It'd be nice if we could you know maybe form some kind of study group till we all get settled."

Willow brightened. "I'd love that! We could do it during sixth period if you have it free, we could meet in the library."

"Sure the library sounds good." Rogue said just as Xander sauntered over with his friend Jesse McNally.

"Hey, Buffy, Rogue." Xander greeted them.

"Hey," Buffy and Rogue smiled.

"Hey there," Jesse answered.

"Buffy and Rogue, this is Jesse." Willow made the introduction.

"It's nice to meet you," Buffy said.

"Well, I wanted to welcome you both, make you feel at home," Jesse replied gallantly. "Unless you all have a scary home. So. What do you guys like, what do you do for fun, do you have any dark, painful secrets that we could publish."

Buffy looked to Xander and shook her head. "Let me guess, Xander. You put him up to that."

"Guilty," Xander said. "Besides, not a lot happens in a one-Starbucks town like Sunnydale. You, me, Willow and Rogue are big news. Me and Willow because of the kidnapping. The two of you simply because your new here."

"Hey I'd thought I would …" Cordelia suddenly appeared behind Jesse, a look of pure disdain on her face.

"Hey, Cordelia," Jesse said.

"Oh, please," Cordelia dismissed him in disgust, turning her attention to Buffy and Rogue. "I thought I'd tell you both that you won't be meeting Coach Foster, the woman with chest hair, because gym has been canceled due to the extreme dead guy in the locker."

"What are you talking about?" Willow straightened, looking at Buffy, Rogue and Xander alarmed. "X-men?" she mouthed.

Buffy and Rogue shrugged. They didn't have enough information yet.

"Some guy was stuffed in Aura's locker," Cordelia explained.

"Dead," Buffy repeated.

"Way dead," Cordelia confirmed.

"So not just a little dead, then," Xander added.

Cordelia gave him one of her looks. "Don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

"If you need a shoulder to cry on," Jesse offered, "or just to nibble on—"

"How did he die?" Rogue broke in.

"I don't know . . ."

"Well, were there any marks?" Buffy asked.

"Morbid much?" Cordelia was eyeing Rogue and Buffy as though they were some kind of aliens. "I didn't ask!"

~We should check this out.~ Rogue projected.

Buffy nodded in agreement. ~Too bad we haven't told Willow and Xander yet. I wish their friend Jesse hadn't tagged along. We could have told them and then used Willow's nose in her tiger form to smell if there was any blood or the lack of it.~

~I know,~ Rogue agreed. "Guys, Buffy and I have to book. Willow, Xander we should talk later." Then she and Buffy took off hurriedly toward the gym.

As soon as they were out of view and earshot of the others, especially Jesse and Cordelia, Rogue spoke up. "I think we should see if there is an alternate way in to the locker room," she said. "It would be less suspicious than going in the main entrance to the gym. Especially when they found a dead body."

Buffy nodded in agreement and they headed around the backside of Gym.

It was easy locating the outside entrance door to the locker room. Rogue twisted the knob, but the door was locked tight. She looked at Buffy who nodded as they looked around to make certain they were alone. With one quick tug, Rogue pulled the door open, splintering the lock in the process. Then they gave one last glance over their shoulders and slipped inside.

They saw the body at once, lying on the floor stretched out beneath a blanket. They approached it and Buffy slowly folded the blanket down from the corpse's head and shoulders. There as they expected where two distinct bite marks on the boy's neck.

Moments later, Rogue and Buffy strode back into the library.

"Okay, what's the sitch?" Buffy said when they noticed Giles was standing at the counter. "You heard about the dead guy, right? The dead guy in the locker?"

"Yes." Giles replied.

"He's got bite marks in his neck, and all his blood's been drained," Rogue said.

Giles let out a sigh. "I was afraid this might be happening when the Council wanted me to force you to Sunnydale, Buffy."

"Do we know anything. Was there a reason for a vampire to be on campus?" Buffy asked.

Giles shook his head. "None that I am aware of. Will he rise again?"

"No, he's just dead," Rogue confirmed. "They drained him, there was no evidence of blood on his mouth which would have confirmed that he had drank."

"This is what I do know. The influx of the undead," Giles said. "The supernatural occurrences. It's been building for years, that's why I was sent here last year. And I believe why the Council wanted me to force your return, Buffy. Something is going to happen here soon. As far as I can tell the signs point to a crucial mystical upheaval very soon—days, possibly less."

Buffy nodded. "We'll start with the Bronze, that club you told us about, then we'll head out to one of the cemeteries tonight."

Giles nodded. "Buffy, Marie I must remind you two that being the Slayer is one of upmost secrecy. I understand why you told your mother, Buffy. It makes the discussion of being a mutant easier to handle. But with the mutant situation still continually volatile it must remain a secret that you two are also Slayers on top of mutants."

"We know Giles," Rogue said. "It's for our own protection. We did intend to tell Xander and Willow, though."

Giles sighed. "Only them. With the fact they both have a mutation they could be of help."

That evening Buffy and Rogue had changed into what they deemed their Slayer outfits. Clothing they could wear in public when their uniforms wouldn't do, and clothing that made the ability to fight easier while still keeping their skin covered.

"Are you two going out tonight to 'patrol', honey?" Joyce asked Buffy as she came into the room. "That is what you called it right?"

"Yeah, Mom. We're going to start with a local club. Then patrol one of the cemeteries before we come home," Buffy said.

"Okay try and be back by ten." Joyce said.

Buffy smiled at the overprotectiveness of her mother. "No promises but we'll try," she said. "I will have the cell phone you gave me turned on in case you need to call us or we need to call you."

"Okay, be careful," Joyce said. "Both of you."

"We will," Rogue said with a smile.

Joyce looked at Rogue and Buffy more particularly their gloved hands, reminders that she couldn't touch them for fear of what they had said was imprinting. She just wanted to hold her daughter just once to know that Buffy would be okay. Especially after losing Scott just a month before.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

A good-sized crowd milled aimlessly around the Bronze.

Buffy and Rogue moved their way up the line scanning for anyone that could potentially be a vampire. Inside, the place was dark and noisy and absolutely packed. A band blasted wildly from the stage up front, yet the crowds seemed relatively well behaved. A lot of kids were squeezed into the coffee bar at the back, while even more watched the action from the balcony above, lounging at tables set for two.

Rogue and Buffy pushed their way through as they noticed Willow standing at the bar. "Hi!" they said to Willow.

"Hi!" Willow said as she smiled at the pair. She then lowered her voice. "Does this have to do with the dead guy?"

"Sort of," Buffy said. "I know we promised we would talk to you and Xander earlier. But we got distracted, sorry. Is he coming?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay when he gets here we'll go someplace and talk," Rogue said.

"Are you here with someone?" Buffy asked.

"No," Willow said with a shake of her head. "Xander and I used to go out, but we broke up."

"How come?" Buffy asked. She couldn't ever imagine breaking up with Rogue.

"He stole my Barbie." As Buffy and Rogue gave her a strange look, Willow explained, "We were five."

"Oh," Buffy and Rogue said together.

"I don't actually date a whole lot ... lately."

"Because of your …" Rogue said.

"While that would make things difficult, no that's not why. When I'm with a boy I like, it's hard for me to say anything cool or witty, or at all . . . I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away."

Rogue and Buffy couldn't help laughing. "It's not that bad," Rogue said.

"It is. I think boys are more interested in a girl who can talk."

Rogue shook her head. "That's not true. Take Buffy and I for example. We didn't start seeing each other because she was a great conversationalist. We were friends for several months before we first noticed we had feelings for each other."

Buffy had to nod in agreement. "You really haven't been dating lately."

"It's probably easy for you guys. I mean, you and Rogue don't seem too shy."

"Well, our philosophy is—" Buffy broke off. "Do you wanna hear our philosophy?"

"I do," Willow said eagerly.

"Life is short." Rogue said.

Willow fixed them with a steady gaze. "Life is short."

"Not original, I'll grant you," Buffy shrugged. "But it's true. Why waste time being all shy? Why worry about some guy or girl and if he or she is gonna laugh at you? You know? Seize the moment. That's what Marie did." She remembered when Rogue had seized the moment. It had been just after they had returned from Alkali Lake.

"Oh . . ." Willow smiled. "That's nice . . ."

During the whole exchange Rogue and Buffy were looking around the crowds. Buffy spotted Giles moving about on the balcony above them.

~ Marie, did Giles say he was coming tonight? ~ Buffy projected.

~ No why? ~ Rogue projected back

~ He's upstairs. ~ Buffy projected before turning back to Willow. "Uh, we'll be back in a minute," she promised.

"Okay," Willow said.

It didn't take them long to find the stairs. They pushed their way up and onto the balcony, then managed at last to squeeze next to the railing that overlooked the stage. They leaned there trying to appear casual, not even looking at Giles, who came to stand just as casually beside them.

"So, you like to party with the students?" Buffy teased him. "Isn't that kind of skanky?"

"Especially when you didn't do it at Xavier's." Rogue said.

Giles's tone was withering. "Right. This is me having fun." He continued to gaze down upon the stage. "Watching Clown-hair prance about is hardly my idea of a party. I'd much prefer to be home with a cup of Bovril and a good book."

Buffy shook her head, "Giles, you need to get out of the library sometime."

They looked down at the mass of swinging, swaying bodies.

"Marie, there's a vamp," Buffy said quickly having spotted a vampire.

Giles and Rogue looked at her and then followed her gaze. Giles frowned, "Are you sure?"

"Look at his jacket. He's got the sleeves rolled up. And the shirt . . . deal with that outfit for a moment." Buffy said.

Rogue had to nod in agreement. It was at that moment that Buffy's eyes clouded over and Rogue was the first to notice. "Baby, what do you see?" she asked.

"Willow with that vampire … Leaving." Buffy said.

"Why would she?" Giles asked. "You did talk to her, didn't you?"

"We haven't had the chance," Rogue said, "to talk to either her or Xander."

Giles nodded. "Go."

Buffy and Rogue fought their way down the steps and through the mobs across the floor, but when they looked again, Willow had disappeared. Worried, they scanned the room, then started for the backstage door. Rogue grabbed Buffy's arm. "He's not going to do it in here."

Buffy nodded as they headed for the exit instead. Once outside they searched around the exterior of the building. No Willow.

With growing anxiety, they hurried around from the back of the club and saw Xander coming down the sidewalk, his skateboard tucked under one arm.

"You're leaving already?" Xander asked them.

"Xander, have you seen Willow?" Rogue asked.

"Not tonight."

"We need to find her. She left with a guy." Buffy said.

"We are talking about Willow, right?" Xander sounded impressed. "Scoring at the Bronze. Work it, girlfriend."

"Where would they go?" Rogue asked seriously.

"Why, you know something about Mr. Goodbar that she doesn't?" Xander pretended to have a sudden brainstorm and rubbed his hands together before pointing at Buffy and Rogue. "Oh! Hey. I hope he's not a vampire . 'Cause then you two would have to slay him."

"We were going to tell you and Willow," Buffy said. "How did you find out anyways?"

"Overheard you two in the library," Xander said. "So it's true?"

"Yes," Rogue said. "Now we need to find Willow."

"She can protect herself from this vampire, all she has to do is shift," Xander said.

"And while she is in the process of shifting into her tiger form," Buffy said. "The vampire could snap her neck."

"Right," Xander said. "Come on."

Willow followed the guy she had met in the Bronze as she occasionally looked behind her for Xander, Buffy or Rogue. They continued on through the woods, as she thought back to what she had done. She had seized the moment, but not because the guy was attractive. Something seemed to tell her he had something to do with the dead guy in Aura's locker. "Okay," she said, trying to play the timid and meek card to keep the guy from discovering what she was really doing. "This is nice and ... scary ... Are you sure this is faster?"

The guy said nothing. One thing the tiger gave her even in human form was an innate sense of direction. She knew this wasn't the way to the ice-cream bar. And then, as he suddenly stopped, she realized they were standing outside a small mausoleum.

Willow stared at the crumbling entrance. A well of thick blackness yawned before her, and a cold chill crept up her spine. She was sure now she had been right.

"Hey," the guy said at last. "You ever been in one of these?"

"No, thank you," Willow said.

He moved in on her, pulling her hair back from her neck. Holding her intimately . . . holding her much closer than she wanted to be held ...

"Come on," he tempted her, his voice teasing. "What are you afraid of?"

And then he pushed her through the doorway.

Willow, thanks to the tiger, could clearly make out the small room with carved stone walls. A huge tomb took up most of the center, with a stone figure of a man lying on top of it. Behind her was the door she'd come in; ahead of her was a much smaller iron door that was locked shut.

Willow spun around. She could see the guy, his silhouette filling the entrance to the mausoleum, blocking her escape. "You made a mistake, just now. You do know that. Do you know what happens when you corner a tiger?"

"No what?"

"They get really angry," Willow said as Darla walked into the mausoleum.

"Is this the best you could do?" Darla asked the guy.

The guy's voice sounded slightly defensive. "She's fresh."

"Hardly enough to share," Darla returned, walking casually down the steps and across the floor.

"Why didn't you bring your own?"

"I did."

Darla indicated the doorway just behind her. As Willow watched a very dazed Jesse stumbled in. She had been debating shifting when Darla had come in. But now with Jesse there …

"Hey, wait up," Jesse called to Darla.

"Jesse!" Willow hurried over to him. She noticed that he was clutching his neck and looked slightly feverish. In truth, he didn't seem particularly aware that Willow was even there.

"I think you gave me a hickey." Again he spoke to Darla, who pointedly ignored him.

Willow watched as Jesse took his hand from his neck. She could see blood on his fingers, blood on his throat. She gazed at him for a moment in disbelief, then looked at the other two figures behind her as she began to shift.

"I got hungry on the way," Darla shrugged before noticing Willow. "What is she doing?"

"She's shifting," said a voice.

Darla and the guy turned and saw Buffy, Rogue and Xander step into the room.

"Shifting?" Darla asked.

"Into a tiger," the guy said in realization. "She's a mutant."

"You brought a mutant for the Master?" Darla asked as the guy nodded. She turned back to Buffy, Rogue and Xander. "And who the hell are you three?"

"We're the X-Men," Xander said as his bone claws slid out.

"Okay, first of all, what's with this outfit?" Buffy baited the guy that Willow had followed. "Live in the now, okay? You look like DeBarge."

Rogue faced Darla just as Willow finished shifting into tiger form. "Now, we can do this the hard way, or ... well, actually, there's just the hard way."

Darla stood her ground. "Fine with me."

"You sure?" Buffy asked.

The guy rushed Buffy and Rogue, charging with lightning speed. But he did not make it as Willow leapt at him and with one smooth movement ripped into the guy with her claws. Buffy whipped a stake out from beneath her jacket and dove it into the guy's heart. The guy dusted and Willow fell to the floor.

"See what happens when you roughhouse?" Rogue told Darla.

Darla was wide-eyed and wary. She moved slowly around Xander, Willow, Rogue and Buffy, preparing to fight them herself.

"He was young," Darla said in disgust. "And stupid."

"Xander, you and Willow get Jesse out." Buffy ordered.

"Don't go far," Darla echoed.

Without warning she lunged at Rogue and Buffy. Rogue took a step back as Buffy met her head-on, parrying Darla's blows with martial arts precision, while Xander, with Willow following right behind, helped Jesse out.

As Buffy got in another effective blow, Darla hit the ground painfully.

"Who are you two?" Darla glared up at Buffy and Rogue, fury in her eyes.

"Don't you know?" Rogue asked.

But before either Rogue or Buffy could go on, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed them both by the throat and lifted them bodily from the ground.

"I don't care," Luke said slowly.

They hadn't sensed him behind them. As Luke stepped from the shadows, his enormous bulk made them seem tiny and insignificant, and Buffy and Rogue realized the odds were now quite even and leaning towards dangerously against them. Luke tossed first Buffy and then Rogue into the air with no effort at all, hurling them a good fifteen feet. They landed badly and hit the wall with their faces.

Luke turned on Darla, who was struggling to get up.

"You were supposed to be bringing an offering for the Master," he berated her. "We're almost at Harvest, and you dally with these children?"

"We had someone." Frightened now, Darla tried to defend herself. "But they came and . . ." she pointed at Buffy ". . . she and this mutant girl killed Thomas . . . Luke, she's strong."

Luke fixed her with a contemptuous stare. "You go. I'll see if I can handle the little girls."

Rogue and Buffy were trying to lift themselves off the floor when Luke closed in and grabbed them. He'd counted on them being stunned, but they were ready for him this time. They knocked his arms away, then kicked him back just a little. He recovered himself almost instantly, landing a solid punch to their jaws.

"You both are strong," Luke muttered. He slammed them back to the ground and gave a throaty laugh. "I'm stronger."

~ Marie we need to get him to imprint. ~ Buffy thought.

~ It may not work. I mean he is dead. He has no life force to imprint. ~ Rogue thought back.

Buffy and Rogue wrestled away from him and got to their feet and circled slowly around the tomb as they removed their gloves.

"You're wasting my time," Luke said calmly.

Luke shoved at the lid of the tomb. As the heavy stone slab flew straight at them, Buffy leaped over it and jumped on top as Rogue dived to the side. With one swift movement, Buffy flipped over and planted both feet solidly on Luke's chest.

The momentum caused both of them to fall, but Buffy managed to get up first, pulling out her stake and driving it toward his chest. Luke's hand shot out and grabbed it just before it made contact.

"You think you two can stop me?" Luke's face was twisted with rage. "Stop us?"

He squeezed his fist. The stake splintered like a matchstick in his powerful grip and he punched Buffy violently, knocking her backward. She lay there… ~ Buffy? ~ Rogue projected to her lover.

~I'm just pretending.~ Buffy projected back.

Rogue came up behind him stake in one hand, her other hand reaching out. She touched him and activated her power but nothing happened. Luke didn't imprint.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," he snarled as he spun around knocking Rogue backwards.

~ He didn't imprint ~ Rogue thought.

Luke stood over Rogue. His voice lowered, and he began to intone a sacred text. "And like a plague of boils, the race of man covered the earth. But on the third day of the newest light will come the Harvest. When the blood of men will flow as wine . . ." He did not notice Buffy coming up behind him, maybe it was cause he had thought when she had not gotten back up that she had been knocked out. The wrong assumption to make. ". . . When the Master will walk among them once more . . ." Buffy scooped up the stake Rogue had dropped. ". . . The world will belong to the Old Ones and hell itself will come to town." Luke finished at last as Buffy staked him.

Luke looked back at Buffy as he exploded to dust.


	30. Chapter 28: The Harvest

**Chapter 28: The Harvest**

Buffy and Rogue ran through the woods listening for the others and wishing their telepathic bond allowed them to talk to others. And then they heard Willow roar.

Buffy and Rogue raced toward the sound of their friend. As they burst upon the scene, they could see Willow still in tiger form fighting with a vampire. With one swift kick of her legs she sent the vampire sprawling backward. He gave a grunt of pain, then staggered to his feet as he saw Buffy and Rogue, holding his nose he tried to get away from them.

The vampire came at them and Buffy pulled out a stake and drove it into the vampire's chest dusting him. Rogue and Buffy's Slayer senses were at their most alert now, and they furiously scanned their surroundings. They heard a cracking sound followed by unmistakable scuffling, and again they took off as Willow followed.

It didn't take the three of them long to find what they were looking for. Almost immediately they caught sight of Xander, being dragged away by two more vampires.

~Is Xander really unconscious?~ Rogue projected.

~Probably not. He's probably biding his time.~ Buffy thought back.

As the vampires sensed an unwelcome presence behind them, the vampires slowly turned around.

It wasn't Rogue and Buffy they saw, suddenly appearing through the trees. It was Willow having shifted back to human form. As Willow looked at the vampires, her expression fiercely threatening.

The vampires turned back again, but Rogue and Buffy stood there blocking their escape. It was easy to take them both out. With one quick punch, Rogue and Buffy knocked them off their feet and they scrambled to get up and get away.

But they didn't scramble fast enough.

Grabbing a couple branches from a nearby tree, Buffy and Rogue snapped them off and held them in their hands like a stake. They charged the vampires, nailing them neatly through the chest.

Willow ran up to Xander and knelt beside him.

"I was trying to get them to take me to Jesse," Xander said as he looked at Buffy and Rogue. "That girl grabbed him and took off."

"Which way?" Rogue asked.

"I don't know," Xander said. "Hence letting them drag me away."

Buffy and Rogue escorted Xander and Willow home and then proceeded home themselves. The moment they walked in the door they found Joyce waiting with a look of relief. They noticed the clock read thirty minutes past ten.

"Sorry," said Buffy. "Ran into some vamps and then walked Willow and Xander home."

Joyce sighed. "Okay," she said. "Next time call, okay. I sat here for the last thirty minutes worried you two might be dead. And yes, Marie I did worry about you also."

Rogue smiled, "That's nice, Mrs. Summers."

"Marie, please call me Joyce or if you really want, mom," Joyce said. "We'll leave Mrs. Summers to house guests that don't live with me."

"Okay," Rogue said, "Joyce. I think it's a little too early to call you mom. While technically Buffy and I are in a relationship … I think calling you mom now would mean we're taking the next step in that relationship. Let's ease up to that point, agreed?"

"Agreed," said Joyce.

"I need to call Giles and fill him in on tonight's patrol," said Buffy as she headed to the kitchen and dialed the number he had given her and Rogue.

_"Hello?"_

"It's Buffy. Ran into several vamps tonight. Dusted all but one who made off with a civilian. No idea where she took him," said Buffy.

_"Okay, anything else?"_

"One of the vamps mentioned something about on the third day and the harvest. Sounded kind of like he was quoting scripture," said Buffy.

_"The Harvest . . . Interesting. Do you remember exactly what the vampire said?"_

"Just a second, Marie has better memory for such things," said Buffy. ~Marie, do you remember what that vamp said about the Harvest? Giles wants to know exactly what he said.~

~Ok be in there in a moment.~ Rogue projected seconds before she walked into the kitchen as Buffy handed her the phone. "Giles it's Rogue. This is what the vampire said. 'And like a plague of boils, the race of man covered the earth. But on the third day of the newest light will come the Harvest. When the blood of men will flow as wine. When the Master will walk among them once more. The world will belong to the Old Ones and hell itself will come to town.'"

_"I will check into it. It sounds somewhat like a prophecy."_

"Oh tell him that were bringing Willow and Xander by in the morning," said Buffy. "We're going to fill them in then."

"Buffy said were going to bring Willow and Xander by in the morning. We're going to fill them in then," said Rogue.

_"Very good."_

The next morning in the school library, Giles stood at the railing on the upper level of bookshelves and tried to explain the supernatural to Xander and Willow. "This world is older than any of you know," he told them solemnly, spinning a globe for emphasis. "And contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold eons, demons walked the earth. Made it their home ... their hell."

Willow and Xander both listened intently.

"In time they lost their purchase on this reality," he continued, carrying an armload of books down the stairs, "and the way was made for the mortal animals. For man. What remains of the Old Ones are vestiges. Certain magics, certain creatures . . ."

"And vampires," Buffy added.

"So vampires are real," Xander said. "And their demons?"

"The books tell that the last demon to leave this reality fed off a human, mixed their blood. He was a human form possessed—infected—by the demon's soul." Giles handed Xander one of the heavy volumes. "He bit another, and another ... and so they walk the earth feeding. Killing some, mixing their blood with others to make more of their kind. Waiting for the animals to die out and the Old Ones to return. A Slayer …"

"What Buffy and Rogue are," Xander interrupted.

"Correct," Giles said. "As long as there have been vampires, there has been the Slayer," Giles recited. "One girl in all the world—"

"He loves doing this part," Buffy interrupted.

"All right," Giles conceded, speeding up a little. "They hunt vampires, one Slayer dies, the next is called, Marie and Buffy are Slayers."

"I'm confused, you said one girl in all the world," Xander said.

"It is true." Rogue said. "I am a Slayer. Buffy imprinted on me."

Giles nodded, "You see mutation and the mystical have never intermixed before Buffy. Buffy is the first Slayer who is also a mutant. When Buffy imprinted on Marie to heal her she gave something of herself to Marie to make it work. What she gave her were not entirely sure. But it did several things. As you know they share a telepathic bond and they share each other's mutation. Also because of whatever Buffy gave Marie it invariably made Marie a Slayer. That is why there are two Slayers when there is only supposed to be one."

"So how do we help?" Xander asked.

"Right now you don't," Buffy said.

"Well, Jesse—"

"Jesse's our responsibility. We let him get taken." Buffy said motioning to herself and Rogue.

Xander frowned. "That's not true."

"I remembered after we got off the phone last night," Rogue said. "That big guy, Luke, that Buffy dusted, also talked about an offering to the Master. Buffy and I don't know who or what that was, but if they weren't just feeding, Jesse may still be alive. We're gonna find him."

"You two have no idea where they took Jesse?" Giles asked Rogue and Buffy.

"Buffy and I looked around, but . . . soon as they got clear of the woods they could have just—" Rogue made a quick motion with her hand."—whoom."

"Can they fly?" Xander looked surprised.

"They can drive," Rogue said.

"Oh."

Willow tried to think back. "I don't remember hearing a car."

"Well, let's take an enormous intuitive leap and say they went underground," Giles said.

"Vampires really jam on sewer systems," Buffy agreed. "You can get anywhere in town without catching any rays. I didn't see any access around there, though."

"Neither did I." Rogue said.

Xander shrugged. "Well, there's electrical tunnels. They run under the whole town."

For a moment Giles considered this. "If we had a diagnostic of the tunnel system, it might indicate a meeting place. I suppose we could go to the building commission—"

"We so don't have time," Buffy cut him off.

"Uh, guys?" Willow said tentatively. "There may be another way."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow sat at the computer while everyone else gathered around her. Showing on the screen was a complete map of the city's electrical tunnels.

"There it is," Buffy said eagerly.

"This runs under the graveyard," Willow explained, pointing to one in particular, but Xander shook his head.

"I don't see any access." Rogue said.

"So all the city plans are just open to the public?" Giles asked.

"Uh, well, in a way," Willow frowned a little sheepishly. "I sort of stumbled onto them when I accidentally . . . decrypted the city council's security system."

Xander's focus remained on the screen. "Someone's been naughty ..."

"There's nothing here," Rogue sounded disappointed.

Suddenly Buffy and Rogue's eyes glazed over as they witnessed all over again the events from the past night.

"What do you two see?" Giles asked.

"We were facing the entrance." Rogue said. "He came from behind us."

"If you were facing the entrance and he came from behind…" Giles said.

Rogue nodded as hers and Buffy's eyes cleared. "The access to the tunnels is in the mausoleum."

"The girl must have doubled back with Jesse after Rogue and I got out," Buffy said.

Xander stepped back, ready for action. "So what's the plan? We saddle up, right?"

"Xander," Buffy said with a sigh. "You're not ready yet. You need training. You don't have an advantage like your dad does. Rogue and I want yours and Willow's help. But you both need training in weapons; stakes, crossbows."

"I understand what you're saying," Xander said. "But Jesse is my friend."

"We know," Buffy said. "Please, Xander. This is in no way meant to diminish you helping us. Being able to heal gives you an advantage against vampires. In fact I'm not sure that you or your dad could even die from a vampire bite. It wouldn't surprise me if yours or your dad's blood is replenished just as quickly as it's taken. Right now what we need is for you is to call your dad. Tell him to meet us at the mausoleum. If Jesse is alive we will get him."

"Willow," Rogue said as Xander left heading for a payphone. "We would like you to help Giles research this Harvest thing on the net."

"Yeah," Willow said. "Sure. I can do that."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Rogue and Buffy made their way through the graveyard once more, back to the mausoleum and smiled when they saw Logan leaning against the wall by the door.

"Hey, darlings," Logan said. "Xander said you two could use my help."

"Hey," Buffy and Rogue said as they smiled at Logan.

Logan let out a sigh. "Did you two know that Xander is following you?"

Buffy and Rogue spun around as Xander stepped into view. "What are you doing here?" Buffy asked.

Xander looked to his father for a moment and then back at the girls. "Something stupid. I followed you two. I couldn't just sit around not doing anything. I understand why you wanted me to wait, I really do. Doing what you two will be doing nightly will take time and training, I understand that. But, Jesse's my bud, okay? If I can help him, then that's what I gotta do."

Buffy and Rogue looked at each and then at Logan. "He does have a point," Logan said. "Out of the four of us he has more at stake here, a friendship. What would either of you do if it was one of you down there?"

"If it was Marie," Buffy said with a sigh. "I'd be doing the same thing."

"Exactly," Logan said as they entered the mausoleum. "Yes, Xander needs to learn how to use the weapons you guys use. His bones claws will not kill vampire. Mine because they are adamantium could decapitate one." He looked towards Xander. "Yours are not adamantium."

"I know, dad, I know," Xander said.

They reached the iron door on the opposite side of the room. Rogue tried it, but it was locked. She looked at the others shaking her head.

Logan smiled as his claws came out and he cut through the lock with them and then they headed into the darkness.

The tunnels spread like a forbidden maze beneath the city. Dark and twisting, they ran in all directions. Buffy and Rogue made their way carefully down a flight of steps. They stood for a moment, taking in their surroundings. Damp, fetid air washed over them, and there was a faraway echo of dripping water.

They moved slowly, their senses groping into every crack and crevice, through every thick bank of shadows. It was a perfect breeding ground for the undead, they thought—and they knew they could be anywhere at all, watching them, waiting. With the murky blackness flowing over them, they continued along the tunnel.

They came to a corner and turned. This new passageway seemed to be empty, but still they hesitated a moment longer, ears straining through the eerie quiet. Once more they started forward, every nerve on edge.

There was nothing around the next corner.

Relieved, they turned into still another passageway, their eyes searching the shadows. They kept close to each other, bodies tense, ready for anything.

"Okay," Xander said, trying to prepare himself. "So, crosses, garlic, stake through the heart."

"That'll get it done," Buffy assured him.

"Cool. Of course, I don't actually have any of those things."

"Why not?" Logan asked. "You knew what you were going to face when you followed them down here."

"Well, the part of my brain that would tell me to bring that stuff is still busy telling me what Buffy said in the library that I should have waited for the training," Xander defended himself as Rogue handed him a cross. "So what else?"

"What else what?" asked Rogue.

"For vampire slayage."

"Fire, beheading, sunlight, holy water . . . the usual," said Buffy.

"So," Xander said. "You two have done some beheading in your time?"

"Oh, yeah. There was this one time, I was pinned down by this vampire, he played left tackle for the varsity—I mean, before he was . . . well anyway, he's got one of those really thick necks, and all I've got is a little X-Acto knife—" Buffy broke off abruptly as Xander gaped at her.

"Buffy," Logan said as he looked in her direction. "You never used an X-Acto knife. In fact most of the vampires you face were staked, I believe. At least that is what Rupert told me."

"Busted," Buffy said with a shrug.

They walked for quite a while without speaking. Tunnel after tunnel melted into nothingness behind them, and their uneasiness continued to grow. There was no comfortable banter between them now. The air was heavy, thick with a dark, dangerous expectancy, and Rogue and Buffy frowned as they scanned the blackness with worried eyes.

"They're close," Buffy said.

"How can you tell?" Xander asked nervously.

"No more rats," said Rogue.

"Xander, even you should be able to tell. Your sense of smell should be about as good as mine. I smell a scent of death," Logan said as his claws slid out.

Xander took a sniff and frowned. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Ooh that's pungent."

They passed through several more tunnels before Xander spoke again.

"Over there." He stopped, pointing. "What's that?"

Ahead of them was a small, gloomy side chamber. They could just barely make out the outline of a doorway, but past that, nothing.

After a quick glance behind them, they walked closer. Xander pulled out a flashlight and played it slowly over the entrance.

The light shone faintly just beyond the opening. Over the motionless shape of a body, lying facedown on the ground.

Xander drew a quick, sudden breath. "Jesse!"

"Oh, no . . ." Buffy and Rogue murmured.

Logan walked over to Jesse as Xander kept the light focused on him. Reaching Jesse, he held out his hand to help him.

Jesse leaped at Logan without warning, a heavy pipe brandished in his fist. As he prepared to bring it down on Logan's head, Xander's voice rang out.

"Jesse!"

Jesse stopped, amazed. "Xander?"

With a look of sheer relief, Jesse dropped his weapon. He walked slowly toward his friend, when he was stopped by Logan.

"Dad?" Xander said.

"He's dead," Logan said.

Buffy and Rogue looked at each other and then at Jesse and silently cursed. Logan was right, Jesse was a vampire. They looked to Logan and nodded as he used his adamantium claws to decapitate Jesse, causing him to dust.

"Let's get out of here," Logan said as he led them out and back the way they came.

Logan, Rogue, Buffy and Xander walked into the library an hour later.

"Did you find Jesse?" Willow asked.

Xander didn't look at Willow as he answered her. "Yeah."

"Worse," Buffy echoed as she plopped into a chair and pulled Rogue into her lap.

"I'm sorry, Willow," Logan said. "We were too late. It was a trap and they turned your friend to use as bait."

Willow shook her head. "At least you guys are okay."

"I don't like vampires," Xander burst out. He aimed his foot at a trash can, kicking it in frustration. "I'm gonna take a stand and say they're not good."

Buffy turned to Giles. "So, Giles, you got anything that can make this day worse?"

"How about the end of the world?" he replied calmly.

"I knew we could count on you," said Buffy.

"This is what we know," Giles went on. "Some sixty years ago, a very old, very powerful vampire came to this shore, and not just to feed."

"He came 'cause of the Hellmouth?" asked Rogue.

"Yes, this vampire hoped to open it," said Giles. "Bring the demons back."

"End of the world," Xander clarified.

"But he blew it," Willow picked up the story. "Or, I mean, there was an earthquake that swallowed about half the town. And him, too—or at least there were no more vampire-type killings afterward."

Giles looked thoughtful as he pulled up a chair. "Opening dimensional portals is tricky business. Odds are he got himself stuck. Like a cork in a bottle."

"And this Harvest thing is to get him out?" Logan asked.

"It comes once in a century. On this night." Giles stood and crossed to a chalkboard where he'd rendered several mysterious diagrams. He began to design several more as he explained. "A Master can draw power from one of his minions while it feeds. Enough power to break free and to open the portal. The minion is called the Vessel, and he bears this symbol."

He paused, pointing to a sketch of the three-pointed star.

"So," Rogue said. "Logan, Buffy and I dust anyone sporting this look, and no Harvest."

"Simply put," Giles responded, "yes."

"Any clue where this little get-together is being held?" Buffy asked.

"Well, there are a number of possibilities—"

Before Giles could finish, Xander broke in. "They're going to the Bronze."

The room went silent. They all stared at him.

"Are you sure?" Willow looked surprised, but Xander simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, tasty young morsels all over the place."

"Then we need to get there." Giles's voice was tense. "The sun will be down before long."

The four of them headed out the door, but Buffy and Rogue suddenly turned in another direction.

"We gotta make a stop," Buffy explained. "Won't take long."

"What for?" Giles asked.

Buffy gave a secretive smile. "Supplies."

Dusk was already beginning to fall.

The last blood red rays of sunlight streamed through Buffy and Rogue's bedroom window, and the round ball of sun eased itself lower upon the horizon.

"Buffy? Marie?" Joyce called from the hallway.

"In here, mom!" said Buffy as she just kept rummaging through her closet as her mother finally entered the bedroom.

"You're going out?" Joyce asked, standing behind Buffy.

"We have to, Joyce," said Rogue. "There is a big vampire feeding frenzy tonight at that club we went to last night."

"Okay," said Joyce. "You two will be careful right?"

"Of course, mom," said Buffy.

"Oh by the way I got a call from your principal," Joyce went on. "Said you both missed some classes today."

"Last night," said Rogue. "Someone got taken. We learned he may still have been alive and went to try and rescue him. The bad thing is he was already turned."

"Okay," said Joyce. "Can I ask if you two have to cut school for something Slayer or X-Men related you call me. I know you both have this destiny thing, and your technically on-call for the X-Men. But I would rather not be surprised by a call from the school."

"Okay, mom," said Buffy. "Sorry." She pulled out a trunk and reached down into it. She groped along the bottom, then lifted it out. and pulled out the false bottom.

"Oh," Joyce said upon seeing the secret cache of stakes, crosses, garlic and a wide mouthed jar of holy water. "Most parents worry that their kids are hiding the booze or an adult magazine or some such. Your hiding all that."

"We just need it to do our job, Joyce," said Rogue.

"I know," said Joyce. "Let me know when you're coming home and I will start dinner." She turned and left the room.

Quickly Buffy gathered everything up and stuffed them into a bag. Then Buffy and Rogue each withdrew a particularly deadly looking stake. The stakes fit in their hands as if they were part of it, a normal extension of their arms. This they slid carefully up into their sleeves.

There was no one outside the Bronze when Logan, Buffy, Rogue and the others finally reached the Bronze. Buffy struggled to get the front door open, but it wouldn't budge.

"It's locked," Buffy told them.

Giles looked almost sick. "We're too late."

"Sorry, Joyce likes to worry about us," said Rogue.

"Dad?" Xander asked as he looked toward Logan.

Logan shook his head. "Sure, I could open it. But adamantium claws cutting through metal would give them a distinct advantage as they would know we were coming. I'd suggest Giles, you, take Willow and Xander to the back entrance. Marie, Buffy and I will find our own way."

"Right." Giles glanced from Xander to Willow. "Come on."

"Guys!" Buffy called out to them.

The three stopped. Buffy handed them her bag.

"You get the exit cleared, and you get people out," Rogue instructed them.

"That's all. Don't go Wild Bunch on us," added Buffy.

"See you three on the inside," Giles promised.

As they took off around the building, Logan, Rogue and Buffy began circling in the other direction. They kept their eyes on the roof above. Moments later they opened an upstairs window and slipped in.

"I feel him rising!" Darla shouted. "I need another!"

Rogue and Buffy stared at the three-pointed star on her forehead.

"The Vessel ..." Buffy whispered as Logan and Rogue nodded.

"Tonight is his ascension," Darla informed the horrified onlookers. "Tonight will be history at its end! Yours is a glorious sacrifice. Degradation most holy." She stopped, her evil gaze sliding from one face to another. "What, no volunteers?"

And then Carlos emerged, holding Cordelia. "Here's one," he said.

"Nooo . . ." Cordelia struggled, but to no avail. As she started to cry, Carlos dragged her toward the stage and handed her over to Darla.

On the Balcony, Logan had made his way over to the vampire that had been up there with them. With one quick movement, he threw the vampire off the balcony.

The vampire landed on his back right in front of the stage and the room plunged into shocked silence.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Logan said in mock innocence. "Were you in the middle of something?"

Looking up, Darla's face contorted with fury and then she saw Rogue and Buffy. "YOU TWO!"

"You didn't think we'd miss this, did you?" Buffy tossed back at her.

The anger drained from Darla's expression. Her lips curled in a dangerous smile. "I hoped you'd both come," she said.

A vampire rushed Rogue and Buffy from the side. Logan's claws came out and he easily decapitated him.

Rogue and Buffy did a backward flip, sailed through the hole, and landed on top of a pool table. A second later Logan stood next to them, his leap through hole was not as graceful as their but it had gotten the job done.

They notice a pool cue lying there. With one simple handspring, Buffy grabbed it and landed neatly on her feet.

A vampire came at Buffy.

Without looking at him, she jammed the cue end into his heart. There was a soft sound of punctured flesh, and when Buffy released the cue it stayed right where it was.

"Okay, Vessel-girl." said Rogue as she Logan and Buffy stared straight at Darla. "You want blood?"

They stepped forward as the cue rose into the air. It looked curiously like the arm of a guard gate, and in the next second, the vampire's impaled body thudded to the floor bursting into dust.

"I want you two," Darla snarled at her. "Only you two, and maybe him."

"Then come and get us," said Buffy.

"If you can," Logan smirked.

Seeing her chance, Cordelia tried to break free of Darla's grasp. Darla flung her roughly away just as Logan, Buffy and Rogue leaped at her and slammed their fists into her face. She stumbled back in pain.

Almost instantly Darla came back at them as Buffy and Rogue ducked. Logan smirked as he popped his claws and drove them into her eyes blinding her.

As the crowd panicked and shoved in all directions, the backstage door burst open. Xander stumbled out and nearly fell, but recovered himself at once. He took a quick look around, saw that the immediate vicinity was free of vampires, and instantly began herding people out.

"Come on!" he yelled.

As fast as he could direct them, Xander moved the panicky crowd through the door. Willow and Giles waited backstage to push everyone safely toward the exit.

Logan smiled as he popped the third claw and then decapitated Darla. Then he spotted Xander.

He was too busy getting people out to notice the vampire at his back.

"Buffy," Logan said as he motioned toward a drum kit.

Buffy followed Logan's gaze and nodded as she kicked the cymbal off its stand, and caught it in midair. The vampire had reached Xander now and she hurled the cymbal Frisbee style.

Sensing something, the vampire turned, his eyes wide, as the cymbal flew straight at his neck.

Xander heard the slice and ducked away.

His eyes followed the trajectory of the severed head as it sailed across the room just as it dusted.

"Heads up . . ." Xander mumbled.

Buffy, Rogue, Xander and Logan turned to face the remaining two vampires.

The vampires looked first at where Darla had been and then at the vampire that just recently been decapitated by the cymbal and they bolted for the door.

Giles and Willow came out from backstage just then. Xander, Logan, Rogue and Buffy met them in the middle of the dance floor.

Giles glanced around, a note of relief in his voice. "I take it it's over."

"Did we win?" Willow was almost afraid to ask.

The six of them looked about at the carnage surrounding them. Most of the crowd had managed to escape by then, but a few still remained, some sitting, some wandering, all of them stunned and silent.

"Well, we averted the apocalypse," Buffy said wearily. "You gotta give us points for that."

"One thing's for sure," Xander sighed. "Nothing is ever gonna be the same."

Buffy pulled out her cell phone as they walked out of the Bronze and she dialed. "Mom, we're on our way home."

Contrary to Xander's prediction, the next day dawned as it always did.

And everything looked amazingly normal.

The warm California sunshine enveloped Sunnydale High, and in the fountain quad the routine was exactly the same. Students milled about laughing and talking, and Cordelia held court with her friends.

"Well, I heard it was rival gangs fighting for turf," she said dramatically. She glanced around at all the eager faces, her adoring fans clinging to every word. "Anyway, Buffy, Rogue, and this other guy totally knew these guys, which is too weird. I can't remember anything too well, but I'm telling you, it was a freak show."

"Oh, I wish I'd been there," one Cordelia-wannabe sighed.

Crossing the quad in the opposite direction, Rogue, Buffy and their own friends happened to overhear Cordelia's play-by-play. They all hid a smile as Giles joined them outside the building.

"Well are you two ready to start your training?" Giles asked Willow and Xander, both of whom nodded.

"I've been thinking," Xander said. "Not that I want to distance ourselves from the X-Men. But I was thinking we should adopt a name for ourselves. One that tells people were here to protect them."

Giles thought about it and nodded. The X-Men were publically recognizable for helping mankind. Why not do the same thing here. "What did you have in mind?"

"X-Force," Xander said. "At first I thought G-Men or even G-Force, in homage to you Giles since your kind of our mentor like Professor Xavier was to the X-Men. But it kind of sounds like we work for the government, no offense."

"None taken," Giles said, "and I am pleased that you think of me as such."

"I then thought of Slayer Force, but only Rogue and Buffy are Slayers. So I finally settled on X-Force."

"I think it works," Rogue said. "The X-Force we are. You two should come up with code names. So should you, Buffy. Since there are two Slayers, it's not really an apt code name."

"I talked to dad when I settled on X-Force," Xander said. "He's letting me use his old nickname, Wolverine."

"And I think," Willow said. "Panthera. The scientific name for a tiger is panthera tigris."

"Destiny," Buffy said. "Since I can see the future, I can know everyone's destiny. Not that I will actually look, but that isn't the point."

Giles smiled as he looked at the four of them. Yes they were all mutants, yes two of them were Slayers. But all four of them wanted to use the mutant gifts they each had to protect the people of Sunnydale and the world from the forces of darkness.


	31. Chapter 29: The Witch

**Chapter 29: The Witch**

Over the week after The Harvest, Buffy and Rogue had gotten Logan to agree to protect Buffy's mother. And then somehow talked Joyce into it as well. This had been a relief to Buffy when Joyce had agreed, Joyce had even set it up so that there was a reason for Logan to be around her—she hired him as security for her Art Gallery. Buffy had worried that she might lose Joyce like she had Scott. While that worry would never completely disappear it did lessen with Logan's presence in her mother's life.

One day Buffy stood before Giles wearing a cheerleaders uniform. "This is madness," he said.

Buffy glanced over at Rogue and then back at Giles. "Come on, Giles. There are two Slayers, remember? Plus Xander and Willow are helping us. This will give me a way to be a normal girl outside of my X-Force responsibilities."

Giles sighed. "Buffy …"

"Buffy will still have time to patrol, okay?" Rogue asked. "Just give her this one thing."

"Alright," Giles said. "But only because you both are Slayers, and you have the rest of the X-Force and Logan to back you up when one of you is not out on patrol. Though I do have to ask Buffy. How do you intend to keep anyone from touching your skin?"

"Easy," Buffy said. She motioned towards the tights and gloves she had on. "After Rogue and I came to Sunnydale, Storm made a few calls and found us a doctor who was also a mutant. He signed some papers saying Rogue and I have rare a skin condition. This allows us to wear the gloves and like right now while I'm wearing a skirt, tights."

Later Buffy read the sign mentioning _Cheerleading Tryouts_ as she, Rogue, Xander and Willow walked into the gymnasium.

"So Giles didn't initially approve, huh?" Willow asked.

"Right," Rogue said. "But we reminded him that we have you, Xander and Logan to back us up. And since I too am a Slayer. It's not like Sunnydale won't be protected. So he did ultimately relent."

"People scoff at things like school spirit—but when you see these young women giving their all like this ..." Xander said as he saw Amber doing the splits. "... Oooh, stretchy. Where was I?"

"You were pretending that seeing scantily-clad girls in revealing postures was a spiritual experience," Willow said.

"What do you mean, pretending?" Xander asked. "Hey I forgot. Storm sent these to dad for us." He handed them each a bracelet. "Touch the bracelet and well I don't know what makes it work but it will allow us to talk to each other."

Buffy smiled as she put hers on. "Remind me to call Storm and tell her thanks."

Just then Cordelia walked up beside them as she watched Amber stand on one leg and held the other straight up in the air. "Just look at Amber. Who does she think she is, a Laker Girl?"

"I heard she turned them down," Willow said as Cordelia moved to the judge's table. She looked at Buffy. "I'm curious …" she motioned towards Buffy's clothes. "How are you?"

"Going to keep anyone from touching skin," Buffy said.

"Let's begin with ..." a cheerleader said as she read from a list. "Amber Grove. If you're not auditioning move off the floor."

Rogue, Xander, Willow, Buffy, Cordelia moved back off the floor. W

"Hi, Amy," Willow said when she spotted Amy.

"Hi," Amy said.

"I didn't know you wanted to be a cheerleader," Willow said. "You lost a lot of weight."

"Had to," Amy said.

"Do you know Buffy and Rogue?" Willow asked.

"Hi," Amy sad. "Oh how I hate this, let me count the ways."

Buffy smiled as they watched Amber's routine.

"She trained with Benson-he's the …" Amy said and then noticed Buffy's eyes. "What's wrong with her eyes?"

Rogue, Willow and Xander turned to look at Buffy.

"What do you see, baby?" Rogue asked.

"Her," Buffy said. "On fire. Literally on fire."

Amy frowned.

Just then smoke began to emanate from Amber's pom-poms as Rogue vaulted, grabbing the large RAZORBACKS BANNER and ripping it down. She then tackled Amber and wrapped her tightly in the banner, smothering the flames. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay ..." she said.

"That was definitely cringeworthy," Buffy said an hour later in the library as they filled Giles in on what had happened at the cheerleading tryouts.

"I'd imagine so," Giles said.

"So this is not a vampire problem," Buffy said.

Giles shook his head. "No."

"Could Amber be a mutant?" Rogue asked.

"Possibly," Giles said. "If her power is spontaneous human combustion."

"How do we go about ruling that out?" Xander asked.

Rogue sighed. "We may not be able to, the two people that were able to use Cerebro are gone."

"So let's look at how she might be triggering it," Buffy said. "Assuming she is a mutant."

"Rage," Giles said. "Rage. In most scientific, non-mutant, cases the person who combusted was terribly angry or upset."

"So Rogue and I should get the skinny on Amber. See if she's had any other such episodes."

"That means hacking illegally into the school's computer system—at last something I can do," Willow said as she moved to a computer.

"I'll ask around about her," Xander said.

"What if we find out Amber didn't cause this herself?" Rogue asked.

"Then we will have to determine who or what did," Giles said. "And deal with it accordingly."

Later that afternoon Buffy and Rogue entered the kitchen through the back door and set their books down on the island. "Hey, Mom."

"Hi, Buffy, Marie," Joyce said. "How was school?"

"We think we might have found another mutant," Rogue said. "We're checking into it to be sure."

"What's all this?" Buffy asked as she motioned to the crates littering the kitchen.

"It's for the tribal art display," Joyce said.

Buffy picked up a statue and looked at it. "Oh. Cool," she said as she and Rogue sat down on the bar stools. They watched Joyce who has yet to look up at them. "We had tryouts today."

"Great!" Joyce said. "How'd it go?"

"Buffy, didn't get to try out yet," Rogue said. "The person we think might be a mutant interrupted it when she started to catch on fire."

"Oh," Joyce said.

"Anyways there is some pretty fierce competition, though," Buffy said.

"I know you'll do fine. Keep on plugging. Just have to get back on the horse," Joyce said as she tried pry open a crate.

"Mom?" Buffy asked.

Joyce finally looked at Buffy and Rogue. "Yeah?"

"What was I trying out for?" Buffy asked.

"Um ... some activity?" Joyce said. "I have no idea, I'm sorry."

Buffy smiled. "That's okay. Your platitudes are good for all occasions."

"I'm distracted," Joyce said. "I've got a lot of inventory to go through here. This is my gallery's first major show. Is it personal gain or something to use that strength too …" She motioned to the crate she still had yet to open.

"Sure mom," Buffy said as she casually flipped the lid off the crate with one hand. "It was cheerleading tryouts."

"Oh!" Joyce said. "Good. I'm glad you're taking that up again. You know something normal given what you have to do."

"Exactly," Buffy said.

Joyce pulled a statue of a man halfway out of a crate. "Oh, dear," she said as she put it back.

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"Fertility statue. You don't need to see it," Joyce said as she walked into the dining room carrying a couple pieces.

Buffy and Rogue looked into the crate with the fertility statue. "Jeepers," they said simultaneously as they looked at the anatomically correct statue.

The next day Buffy and Rogue are back in the gym as tryouts were being held again.

"Despite the terrible thing that happened yesterday ..." a cheerleader said. "... we still have to pick new cheerleaders. If you make the team, you'll find your name posted in the Quad after lunch. Let's begin with group performance - Cordelia, Buffy, Amy, Morgan, Janice and Lishanne."

The five girls walked to the center of the gym.

"Why do my hands have to sweat when I get nervous?" Amy said as she glared at her hands.

"Don't worry, you'll do great," Buffy said.

As the music came up Rogue watched Buffy perform the group cheer.

"We're Sunnydale, Sunnydale. We Never Fail, Never Fail. Jump and Shoot, Swish and Score. The Other Team Is Such a Bore. YEAHHH!"

Rogue rolled her eyes. She wanted Buffy to get on the team because she knew that Buffy enjoyed cheerleading. Still she thought it looked ridiculous to be jumping around, waving pom-poms.

As each of the girls cartwheel at the end Amy slipped and careened into Cordelia.

"You saw that, right? That wasn't me," Cordelia said looking at the judges.

Rogue stood next to the trophy case as she waited for Buffy. Amy walked up to her and looked at a picture of a cheerleader.

"That's my mom," Amy said.

Rogue looked at the picture. "Catherine Madison," she said.

Amy nodded. "Her nickname was Catherine The Great: she took that team and made them tri-county champions, no one's ever done that before or since. She and my dad were homecoming King and Queen, got married right after graduation."

"That's kinda romantic," Rogue said as she thought about Buffy and cheerleading. If they go to competitions, maybe cheerleading wasn't so bad.

"Well... he was a big loser, couldn't make any money, took off with Miss Trailer Trash when I was twelve," Amy said. "He left us with nothing. She put herself through cosmetology school, bought me everything I ever wanted and never gained a single pound ..."

"She sounds great, Amy, but that doesn't mean you have to, you know, lock step as far as the cheerleading thing –" Rogue said.

Amy turned to Buffy as her eyes began to fill with tears. "It's just, she was the best, and I can't get my body to move like hers. I choked in there so bad," she said.

Just then Buffy came out of the locker room and headed for Rogue.

"... I gotta get changed ..." Amy said as she passed Buffy and entered the locker room.

"She okay?" Buffy asked.

"Her mother was this really popular cheerleader in her day it seems," Rogue said. "And she's a little unhappy that she's not living up to her mom's image."

"Oh," Buffy said as Willow walked up to them. "Any word on Amber?"

"Nothing thrilling," Willow said as she pulled a sheet of paper from her book bag. "Average student—got detention once for smoking—regular smoking, with a cigarette. Not being smoky. All pretty normal."

"Maybe she's not a mutant then," Rogue said.

Buffy nodded. "We'll just have to see what happens next."

Later Buffy and Rogue stood next to Xander, Willow and Amy in the quad as a cheerleader posted a list to the bulletin board.

Lishanne jumped and down with a few of her friends after reading the list. "Yess!"

"I can't take this ..." Lishanne said.

"I can't take this …" Amy said.

"Xander," Buffy said as her friend nodded in understanding.

Xander dove into the throng and worked his way to the front and looked at the list.

Buffy, Willow, Rogue and Amy watched as Cordelia walked out of the throng and over to Amy. "You're lucky."

"I made it?" Amy asked hopeful.

Cordelia smirked. "I made it," she said as she turned and walked away.

Xander walked out of the throng and over to the girls. "One of those girls hit me really hard—we have to start testing for steroids—okay, not only did you make it, but you, Buffy, are the number one alternate and Amy's the number three!"

Amy looked down as she turned and walked off, tears in her eyes.

"What better way to celebrate than the four of us going to the Bronze," Xander said.

"Xander, alternates are the ones who didn't make the team," Willow said. "They only fill in if something happens to the ones who did."

Buffy looked to Rogue who nodded and then walked over to Amy. "At least it's over. And you know what I think we should do about it? Brownie pig-out, my house, now."

Amy shook her head. "How many more hours a day can I practice? How much more can I do? This would never have happened to my mom. Never."

Buffy watched Amy take off just as her eyes glazed over.

_A robed woman dropped a serpents head into a cauldron. "... Lord of Darkness, Lord of Night ... accept thy supplicant's sacrifice ..." she said as she moved to a row of dolls neatly lined up on the wall. She picks up a brunette doll and walked back to the cauldron. She wrapped a pink headband around and around the doll. "... reap thy vengeance with keen and cruel might ... send thy sudden darkness out of darkest night." She dropped the doll into the cauldron._

"Buffy," Rogue said as she walked up to Buffy. "What do you see?"

"I think I know what we're dealing with. A witch," Buffy said as her eyes cleared.

Buffy, Willow and Rogue quickly made their way to the library and Buffy explained what she had seen to Giles.

"A witch?" Giles asked. "Are you sure?"

"I saw a bubbling cauldron. A woman or a girl dressed in a robe chanting over it. And dropping a doll with a pink headband wrapped around its head," Buffy said.

"And you never saw her face?" Giles asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No. She had a hood up."

"Now why would someone want to set Amber ablaze?" Giles asked.

"Could it because she is a cheerleader?" Rogue asked.

"It's possible," Buffy said. "Cheerleading can be tough competition to get on the squad."

"If that is the case," Giles said. "Who would want to become a cheerleader so desperately that she would resort to the dark arts?"

"Amy," Rogue said. "She and I talked and she is obsessed to become a cheerleader so to impress her mother who was one in school."

"Then she made a comment about what more could she do." Buffy said. "When she made third alternate."

Willow nodded in agreement. "I'd say we probably got ourselves a winner."

"We need to make sure it is indeed, Amy," Giles said as he went and pulled out a text and began flipping through the pages, "before we arouse her suspicions. She's capable of some fairly ugly things. We'll need a conclusive test. There should be one—yes! The ducking stool. We throw her in the pond. If she floats, she's a witch; if she drowns, she's innocent." Buffy, Rogue and Willow looked at him as if to say _no_. "... some of my texts are a bit outdated."

"You think?" Buffy said.

"Here we go," Giles said as he turned to another page. "This should work. You'll need some of her hair, a little quicksilver and aqua fortis."

"That's just mercury and nitric acid, we can get it in the science lab," Willow said.

"Heat ingredients and apply to witch, if a spell has been cast in previous forty-eight hours witch's skin will turn blue. Oh, and you'll need some eye of newt," Giles said.

"We have science class tomorrow with Amy," Rogue said. "We can do the test then."

The next day Buffy and Rogue passed Cordelia in the hall. They noticed that Cordelia was having trouble with her locker. They walked over to Willow and Xander.

"Is that Cordelia's locker?" Buffy asked.

Xander shrugged. "I don't know."

"What did the doll look like that you saw in your vision?" Willow asked.

"Brunette," Buffy said. "With a cheerleading outfit. Just like Cordelia looks right now."

"We should check this out," Rogue said. "We'll meet you guys in the science room."

Buffy and Rogue took off after Cordelia. They head outside and follow Cordelia to where a driver's ed car is parked.

"Nice of you to join us Cordelia," Mr. Pole said from the passenger's side of the car. "We didn't keep you waiting or anything did we? It's your turn to drive. Let's buckle up, people."

Mr. Pole and two students got in the car as Cordelia opened the driver's door. "I don't want to drive today, Mr. Pole," she said.

Mr. Pole looked wildly uncomfortable for a moment. "You've flunked Driver's Ed twice—show me some moves or you'll be taking the bus to college."

Cordelia climbed in behind the wheel as Rogue's eyes glazed over.

"Marie?" Buffy said.

"Cordelia is a victim," Rogue said. "She's going blind. She will crash the car."

Buffy ran over to the car and knocked on the driver's side window as Cordelia rolled it down. "Cordy, don't you remember you had that eye appointment earlier and the doctor said not to drive today till your eyes cleared."

Mr. Pole frowned. "Cordelia why didn't you tell me that was why you weren't feeling well. We'll do your drive tomorrow after your eyes have cleared."

Cordelia nodded as she got out of car and was led into the school and the library by Rogue and Buffy. "Thanks," she said. "What's wrong with my eyes. I can't see anything."

"Were going to fix this," Rogue said. "For now stay with Giles." She looked to Giles. "We have a science next. We're going to test Amy then."

Giles sighed and nodded. "We've at least confirmed it's a witch now. Blinding one's opponent is a classic."

Buffy and Rogue nodded as they patted Cordelia reassuringly and then headed out of the room and down the hall and into the science classroom.

Willow was already making an incision into a frog as Buffy and Rogue sat down in front of her. One eye of newt ..."

"Wow, you've got a killer streak I've never seen before. Hope I never cross you," Xander said.

"I do too, then I'd have to carve you up in neat little pieces," Willow said as she smiled at Xander.

"Ha ha," Xander said as he looked at Buffy and Rogue. "You guys getting the hair?"

Buffy nodded as she got out of her seat and moved to stand next to Amy. "What are we supposed to be doing?"

"What the board says," Amy replies.

"What a concept, read the board of course," Buffy said as she dropped a pen. She bent down to pick it up and discretely slipped a hand into Amy's purse and grabbed some hair from a brush. She noticed as she stood up that Amy was looking at her.

Buffy moved back to her seat and handed Willow the hair who added it to a chemical mixture that sat on a Bunsen burner.

"Smile and wave to the nice witch," Xander whispered as Amy looked back at them.

Willow handed the beaker to Buffy. "All set. You have a plan?"

Buffy nodded as she handed the beaker to Rogue. "Marie will spill it on her, try and make it look natural."

Rogue stood and made her way to Amy's desk, beaker in hand.

"Lishanne, can you tell me why these chemicals have this reaction?" Dr. Gregory said as Rogue casually spilled a drop or two on Amy's arm. She glanced down and saw that the drops have turned blue. "Lishanne? Are you—Oh my god."

Lishanne knocked over a few beakers over as she stumblingly rose and turned, grabbing at Amy. Rogue looked up and followed Amy's gaze at Lishanne and saw that she had no mouth.

Amy backed away, terrified by what she saw.

Moments later Willow, Xander, Buffy and Rogue clustered in the hall.

"Did you see?" Xander said. "Amy was as freaked out as the rest of us."

"So it's not her?" Willow asked.

Rogue shook her head. "The test was positive. She's the witch. I don't think she realizes what she's doing."

"Should we talk to her?" Willow asked.

"No," Buffy said. "We should talk to her mother. I wonder if she knows what she's created."

"We should do that now," Rogue said. "If we wait, she may target you next, Buffy. You are the first alternate. All she would have to do is eliminate you and she's on squad."

"Right," Buffy said.

"What should we do about Amy?" Xander asked.

"Keep an eye on her," Buffy said. "Rogue and I will grab Giles. He'll know what we're looking for to reverse the spells she's casting."

Twenty minutes later Giles drove up to the Madison house. "Let me do the talking," Giles said as they got out of the car and walked up to the front door.

Giles knocked as Buffy peered through the window.

~Rogue. Come look at this.~ Buffy projected as she watched Catherine Madison shove some chocolates under the coffee table.

~Weird.~

Buffy and Rogue watched through the window as Catherine moved to the door and opened it.

"What do you want?" Catherine asked. "Is there something wrong?"

"Mrs. Madison, we need to talk to you about your daughter," Giles said.

"I'm not allowed to—you'll have to come back," Catherine said as she began to close the door.

Buffy removed one of her gloves and reached through the door touching Catherine's hand forcing the woman to imprint. Catherine slid to the floor as Buffy released her. "Sorry," she said as Giles pushed the door open.

"What did you do?" Catherine asked.

Buffy frowned as Catherine's mind ran through her head. "Amy?"

Catherine looked at Buffy as she got back to her feet.

"I don't understand ..." Giles said.

"She switched," Buffy said as she looked at Giles. "Amy and her mom switched bodies. Mrs. Madison, I mean Amy, imprinted on me long enough that I got a bit of her mind." She looked back at Catherine. "Your mom wanted to relive her glory days. Catherine the Great."

Catherine nodded.

"Good lord ..." Giles said.

"She said I was wasting my youth ... So she took it," Catherine said as she sat down the couch. "I didn't know about her ... her power. When my dad was here they would fight, he called her a witch. I thought he meant something else. When he left I wanted to go with him but she wouldn't even let me call. She got crazy. She'd lock herself upstairs for days. And she'd get down on me all the time. She said I didn't deserve to have it so easy, that I didn't know how hard it was to be her. I guess she showed me, huh?"

"Amy, it's gonna be okay," Buffy said.

"A few months ago I woke up in her bed, I didn't know where I was ... and I looked in the mirror ..." Catherine said.

"And saw your mother's face staring back at you," Rogue said as Catherine nodded.

"She locked herself upstairs," Giles said. "Where?"

"She has a room in the attic," Catherine said.

"Show us," Buffy said.

Catherine led them up to the attic door which was locked.

"Too bad Logan isn't here," Rogue said.

"Indeed," Giles said as he put his shoulder against the door and then with all of his might shoved against it hard splintering the lock. He, Buffy and Rogue walked into the attic and looked around.

"This is the room in my vision," Buffy said as she made her way over to a set of dolls lined up. "And here is the one with the pink headband."

"If she finds out I've been in here she'll kill me," Catherine said.

"I believe we can reverse your mother's spell. All of them, in fact," Giles said.

"You really could?" Catherine asked.

Giles nodded. "Yes, but I need her books. There are certain volumes she would need for this kind of casting," he said as he looked towards Buffy. "Buffy?"

Buffy's eyes glazed over as she watched …

_Amy set a large tome into a trunk. Then a black cat lands on top of the book as Amy closed the trunk._

"The trunk," Buffy said. "Beware the black cat. It's been in there since she put the book in there."

Giles nodded as he proceeded to open the trunk. He moved out of the way as the cat leaped out of the trunk. "Marie, collect the dolls and all the personal items."

Marie nodded as she began collecting the dolls.

Giles smiled as he pulled out the book just as Buffy's eyes cleared. "This is it," he said as he looked at Catherine. "Now we are going to the school, so we can reverse everything. And you're coming with us."

Catherine nodded as she followed them downstairs and out the front door.

When they reach the high school they head straight for one of the science classrooms.

Rogue sat the box down that contained the book and dolls, and pulled out the book opening it.

"Let's see ... I'll need lead, sulphur, some sort of diacetate ..." Giles said as he looked over Rogue's shoulder. He then moved to a glass cabinet with the chemicals locked inside it.

Buffy shook her head as she looked at Rogue who nodded. She returned her gaze towards the door to make sure neither Amy nor anyone else was coming.

Rogue still holding the book moved beside Giles and grabbed a metal beaker and smashed the glass.

"What should I do?" Catherine asked.

Giles looked over at the book and then at Catherine. "Find me a frog."

Catherine nodded as she walked over to a refrigerated cabinet and opened it, pulling out a dead frog.

Rogue and Giles moved back to the table with the needed ingredients and got a beaker and bunson burner ready.

Catherine sat the dead frog down on the table and began, reluctantly, to pry out the dead frog's eyes.

"Right," Giles said as he threw in a bit of powder into the beaker. "The center is dark. The darkness breathes. The listener hears." He threw in more powder. "Hear me."

Buffy glanced over at Catherine and noticed she was reeling. "You okay, Amy?"

Catherine nodded. "It's working ..."

"Unlock the gate, let the darkness shine. Cover us with holy fear. Show me," Giles said as the lights in the room blow out.

Catherine reeled back again before looking up at Buffy. "She's heading this way."

Giles raised his hands to the heavens. "Corsheth, and Gilail, the gate is closed. Receive the dark, release the unworthy ... Take of mine energy and be sated!" he said as he plunged his hands into the beaker and a huge colored cloud shot up.

"She's here," Buffy said as the door knob rattled.

Rogue moved over beside Buffy as they removed their gloves.

"Be sated! Release the unworthy!" Giles said. "Release! Release!"

Just then the door burst open as Amy carrying an axe came running into the room. She took one quick look around and headed for Buffy and Rogue.

"RELEASE!" Giles said.

Amy rose the axe about to strike and then there was a sudden flash of light as all the spells were reversed. She then lowered the axe.

"Amy?" Rogue said.

Amy nodded. "I'm me again."

Catherine flew at Buffy and Rogue, screaming as she tackled Rogue.

Rogue grabbed Catherine's arms and forced the woman to imprint.

"A mutant," Catherine said as she smiled.

Rogue frowned as she looked past Catherine to Buffy. "She's not imprinting."

"Stay back, Giles," Buffy said.

Catherine stood and moved towards the cowering Amy. Nothing but hate in her gaze. "You. You little brat."

"Mom, please ..." Amy said as she began to back away from her mother. She raised the axe for protection.

Catherine merely cocked her head and the axe flew out of Amy's hand and into her own. "Raise a hand to your own mother? Who gave you birth, who gave up her life, her LIFE so you could drag your worthless carcass around and call it living?" she said as she slammed the axe into a table top.

Amy looked from the axe to her mother.

Energy began to crackle around Catherine as she looked to Rogue and Buffy. "You two are not the only mutants you know. As long as my daughter was in my body she did not have access to my gifts."

Buffy frowned. "You're a mutant?"

Catherine smirked. "Yes, not only a witch but a mutant as well. And I have long since learned how to use both in combination." She looked back at Amy. "You were never anything but trouble. I'll put you where you'll never make trouble again. That body was mine! Mine!"

"You know what," Rogue said. "Grow up."

Catherine threw her head back in a mystical shriek as Buffy and Rogue are thrown back over the teacher's desk. "I shall look upon my enemy. I shall look upon her and the dark place will have her soul! Corsheth! Take her!"

Buffy swung her leg over the table and broke the support for the mirror above. The mirror came down hitting the table at an angle, still supported on the other side.

The energy around Catherine shot away from her body at her own reflection and bounced right back at her. She screamed and glowed as the energy wrapped her in a cocoon. Then suddenly she was gone.

Buffy and Rogue came from around the desk and walked over to Giles and Amy and found out that they were alone.

"Well, that was interesting," Giles said.

"Are you guys okay?" Rogue asked.

Amy smiled. "I'm fine."

"I think all the spells were reversed. Of course, it's my first casting, I may have got it wrong," Giles said.

The next day Buffy and Rogue entered the library to find Giles waiting for them.

"So how was Mrs. Madison when she returned to her body able to resist imprinting on me. When Amy was in her body she was able to imprint on Buffy," Rogue said.

"We may never know," Giles said. "This is another case of the mystical and mutation mixing. As is the case with the two of you. It is likely that the protection Catherine Madison received was a side effect of mutation and the mystical mixing."

"What about Amy?" Buffy asked. "Will she be a mutant?"

"As you both know mutation is passed from the father, and we don't know if Amy's father is a mutant," Giles said. "That said, we don't know for sure all of the effects of mutation and the mystical mixing. I would hazard to guess, yes it is possible that she could be a mutant. Only time will tell."


End file.
